


Lotus

by SapphireOx



Series: Out of the Storm [2]
Category: Monster High
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Family Bonding, Gen, Internalized Victim Blaming, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Past Kidnapping, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape Recovery, Stockholm Syndrome, Survivor Guilt, Therapy, abuse recovery, internalized slut shaming, mentions of human trafficking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:15:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 18
Words: 144,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24400435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphireOx/pseuds/SapphireOx
Summary: After five years, Clawdeen has finally escaped from the  abuse and unspeakable horrors she has faced in the harsh underworld of DC's crime syndicate.Being free and back with her family, though, is but a small relief as she deals with the trauma and the scars that the years of being a prisoner have left on her. Now, Clawdeen must navigate through her complicated feelings and the reminders of her experience as she tries to pick up the pieces of her broken life.But how do find yourself again, when the rest of the world has moved on without you?Sequel to Under The Red Lights.
Relationships: Draculaura/Clawd Wolf, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: Out of the Storm [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1207872
Comments: 19
Kudos: 54





	1. Prologue: The Return

**Author's Note:**

> Yep, it's finally here. Thank you all for your patience. 
> 
> Since this deals with the aftermath, content shouldn't be as severe as it was in the first story. However, I will still put up warnings before every chapter when they are needed. 
> 
> Just like before, updates will occur along with that of The Hunted.

Clawdeen couldn’t believe the day had finally come.

Chronologically, it wasn’t actually that long, but the hospital’s orderly, sterile environment had a way of making things feel like they had slowed down so they were only moving at only one-tenth of a normal speed when it wasn’t absolute chaos, and you naturally developed a habit of falling into routine as your stay went on. What had been only a little over a week had felt like a good few months.

But finally, she was declared in the all-clear and ready to be discharged from Valhalla.

She was finally going home.

“’Deen?”

Clawdeen blinked. She’d been sitting on the edge of her hospital bed, listening to Dr. Yokai as she explained to her and her parents about the type of prescription she’d written for her; or, she had been, until her eyes had slid to stare at the wall across from her and she had found herself spacing out.

She looked up. All three of them were looking at her, like they were awaiting an answer to something. Clawrk’s brows were furrowed in slight worry when she failed to respond.

“I-I’m sorry,” Clawdeen started, “What was that?”

Dr. Yokai smiled softly, “I asked if you have any questions?”

Clawdeen opened her mouth to respond, but quickly closed it. She’d long since forgotten what they’d even been talking about by this point. She looked away, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

“Um...n-no,” she replied in a small voice.

Harriet and Clawrk shared a look, but neither responded. If the doctor had thought anything of the timid response, she didn’t show it either. Instead, she just nodded and turned to Clawrk and handed him a small slip of paper.

“This will cover her initial prescription,” she explained, “I would recommend going to your doctor in your home state first, though, in order to get his signature. It just creates less of a situation for the pharmacist when you go to get it refilled.”

Clawrk nodded and took the slip of paper. “Thank you, doctor. We will. And thank you for everything you’ve done for us and Clawdeen.”

He held out his hand.

“No need to thank me,” Dr. Yokai said, though she shook him and Harriet’s hands out of politeness, “I’m just doing my job.”

She turned back to Clawdeen. She reached out and lightly gripped her shoulder. Clawdeen looked up at her, her eyes holding a bit of apprehension in them.

“Well, I guess this is goodbye then, Clawdeen,” Yokai said, giving her a soft smile, “I wish you the best of luck back home.”

“T-T-Thank you,” Clawdeen said.

She felt the doctor squeeze her shoulder in a gesture of comfort, before she let go. It left Clawdeen feeling slightly chilled.

“I hope you all have a safe trip back home,” Dr. Yokai said, “And please, if you ever have any questions, don’t hesitate to contact us again.”

With that, Clawdeen heard her turn around and leave the room, the worn supports in the soles of her shoes making light squeaking sounds with every step.

As she turned the corner, Harriet shouldered her hand bag and turned back to her daughter. “Are you ready to go, honey?” she asked.

“Huh?” Clawdeen replied, having spaced out again, her cheek resting in her hand, “Oh yeah. Y-Yeah, I’m ready...”

She glanced around the room, although she had had no other belongings with her besides the change of clothes Howleen had brought her earlier that day. She then stood up and stuffed her hands in the pockets of her jacket.

Clawrk gave her a warm smile and reached out to draw her to him, keeping her hugged against his side as his arm rested over her shoulders.

“All right, let’s go,” he said softly, his opposite hand taking Harriet’s and lacing their fingers together, before the three of them started for the entrance to the room.

As they were about to step out, Clawdeen pulled away from her father to look over her shoulder. Harriet and Clawrk stopped and watched her.

“Is something wrong?” Harriet asked.

Clawdeen didn’t answer. She looked back at the room, her eyes trailing over its layout and design. They lingered over the now-made bed, the trash that had recently been taken out, the curtains that had been pulled back, allowing her to see the last vestiges of the sun as it disappeared over the horizon in the distance.

For the last two weeks, this room had been her little refuge, the first experience of peace and quiet she had had in over five years. She’d woken up here after the night that Aran and the rest of the guys in his inner circle had been arrested.

The night when Aran was finally arrested.

The night when he tried to kill her.

The night when finally, after all this time, after all the pain and abuse Clawdeen had gone through, the living hell she’d been forced to endure was finally over.

And now, she was leaving. Her fever and the infection in her knees had since gone away. All the other girls involved who’d been with her as part of the trafficking ring, the closest people she had to friends- no, _were_ her friends- had since gone back to their own families or left. Aran was in jail awaiting trial. There was nothing left for her in this godforsaken city.

Just two weeks ago, the thought would’ve been nothing more than a cruel dream, a desperate fantasy that she’d long since given up any hope of turning into real life. Even now, as she stood in her own clothes, with her parents beside her, there was still a shred of doubt in her mind that when she went to sleep that night, she’d wake up and she’d be right back at the apartment building.

But no. This was real life. She was going home.

She was finally free.

“Clawdeen? Honey?” Clawrk called, touching her hand in concern.

Tears filled her eyes. Clawdeen wiped them away with her sleeve, before she turned back to him and Harriet. She gave a weak smile.

“I’m fine,” she assured, “Just...thinking.”

The two of them regarded her with a look of pity, the pain on her face obvious. Clawrk leaned and took her back in a sideways hug; Clawdeen leaned into him like her legs were about to give out.

“Come on,” Clawrk said gently, “The kids are waiting for us.”

They walked through the halls in silence as they made their way to the front entrance of the hospital. The waiting room and lobby was much quieter at this time of night; patients and staff only gave the three of them passing looks.

“Have a wonderful night,” the secretary at the front desk said in parting as they passed by.

Clawrk glanced over his shoulder and replied, “Thanks.”

A small breeze ruffled their fur and hair as they walked through the sliding doors and into the night. As they made their way to the car, Clawdeen glanced up at the sky. The light pollution of the city blocked out almost all the stars, but there was one little speck she could see close to the moon.

She wondered if Crescencia or any of the other girls were looking up at that same star now. She wondered if Shelby was looking up at them, from wherever she was.

Had she managed to find shelter, Clawdeen wondered, and a place where she could get warm food for at least the night? Or was she possibly having to live like a nomad, sleeping right under the very stars in some little cave in the water, finally in her element but with nothing but the clothes on her back and her wits about her?

 _Wherever she is,_ Clawdeen wished as she looked back at the star, _Please let her be safe. She deserves to be happy for once. She deserves to have a life._

At the car, Clawrk opened the back door and held it open for her.

“After you,” he offered.

Clawdeen said a small ‘thanks’ and climbed in.

The drive to the hotel was spent mostly in silence. Clawdeen settled into the back of her seat; she looked down and absentmindedly played with a loose threat in the cuff of the sleeve of her jacket.

The clothes were in the typical colors she’d worn back in high school- her favorite dark purple sweater with the wolf face printed on the front, some torn jeans, a black jacket, and her worn purple sneakers. Even though she hadn’t worn for over five years, they still fit; in fact, they were looser on her than back then, more so hanging off her thin frame than conforming to her once curvaceous figure like in the past.

But they were hers, and the scent that still lingered on them brought comfort to Clawdeen; she huddled into her jacket, grateful to finally be wearing something for once besides a skin tight dress or a too-small skirt that risked showing her backside at the smallest movement.

 _Hell, when’s the last time I got to wear pants?_ She thought to herself, feeling along the worn denim as she ran her palms over her thighs.

Clawrk glanced back at her from the rearview mirror, noting how she kept repeating the movement, like she had to make sure that what she was feeling was real.

It made his heart ache in pain for her. His poor little girl.

Clawdeen turned to look out the window, watching mindlessly as flashing neon signs of night clubs and billboards advertising various soft drinks passed by. Her mind wandered to the upcoming flight that her and her family were going to board.

It had been five years since she’d last been in Salem.

There was no telling what or who had changed since she’d disappeared. She could already see it in her younger siblings- how Nino now towered over her and was full of muscle, or how Packlynn and Weredith reached her waist whereas last time they barely came up to her knees- but who could say how her friends and everyone else had turned out in all that time.

Operetta had seen it to, the day of that fateful run-in, after the night Grady and Aran had forced Clawdeen to beat Shelby.

 _Oh, darlin, what have they done to you?_ Operetta had asked as they both came to realize that it was one another they were truly looking at. Clawdeen hadn’t even said anything before then. Her appearance was enough for the phantom to see the difference.

She wondered, would the rest of her friends see the same thing? How had they been going on with life since she practically vanished into thin air? They’d all be long out of high school now, Clawdeen knew for sure.

What if she didn’t recognize them?

What if they didn’t recognize _her?_

A sudden pang of sorrow hit her in the chest. She knew for a fact she had changed- even without her self-awareness, Clawdeen could see it in how everyone looked at her or acted around her. She had changed, and definitely not for the better.

Would they be able to handle it, how different she’d been from the feisty ghoul that everyone once knew? Could they accept it?

Would they even want to?

Clawdeen bit her lip, fighting back against the sudden urge to cry. _Goddamn it, get it together,_ she hissed at herself. They hadn’t even made it to the airport yet, and already she was a mess.

She was tired of crying. Tired of being worn down, tired of feeling like she could never relax, tired of all of it. It made her feel fragile and helpless, like she couldn’t do anything on her own.

It was such a far cry from how she used to be. The old Clawdeen wasn’t someone to break down in tears every five minutes.

But...that was the old Clawdeen. That wasn’t her anymore.

Before she could further dwell on it, Harriet announced from the front seat. “We’re here. You might want to scoot over, make room for everyone.”

Clawdeen looked out the window. They were parked in front of the waiting area of a Marriott. Through the glass doors, she could see Clawd talking with the man at the front desk, trying to get the family checked out, while Rocks, Howleen, and the rest of them sat waiting in the seats in the lobby. Rocks and Don stood by a luggage cart, all their suitcases load up to it.

The sight of the hotel made Clawdeen bristle. She pulled away slightly to glance up at the top of the hotel, taking in the rooms that still had their lights on at this time of night.

Far too many times to count, she spent days and nights in hotels exactly like this, servicing various clients and business associates of Aran’s. Sometimes, her and Aran went right in without the staff even sparing them a second glance. Clawdeen remembered how at times, while they were having sex, she could sometimes hear other guests walking by outside the room.

How many rooms in this hotel had been witness to similar acts, like the ones she was forced to endure? How many had girls in her position at this very moment, forced to be some random man or woman’s personal slave for the night in some suite with a king-sized bed, while maids and maintenance workers walked by without even a second thought?

Were the owners of these hotels even aware of any of this? Or did they just not care?

Clawdeen’s hands balled into fists. A trickle of fear started to run down her spine as she looked around, carefully scanning the few guests and staff members outside in the hotel parking lot. What if there were other pimps here right now, waiting for their girls to get done, and they recognized her from the news?

What if there were guys like Striggy and Gem here right now, waiting for the right time to strike so they could snatch up a girl and drag her into the hell that was this city?

The small amount of relief she’d been feeling vanished into thin air as she suddenly grew tense with the paranoia that she was being watched. Clawdeen pulled away from the window and shrunk down into her seat, glancing back and forth at either side uneasily.

“They’re coming,” Harriet suddenly announced.

It was a small relief to Clawdeen as she glanced out and saw her siblings approaching the car, Rocks and Don taking up the back as they pushed the luggage cart.

In front, Clawrk lowered Harriet’s window and leaned forward slightly to call out, “You need any help?!”

“Naw, we got it,” Rocks called back.

Harriet turned in her seat to face Clawdeen. “Are you comfortable there? You can move, if you want.”

“I-I’m fine,” Clawdeen mumbled.

From her ashen face and wide eyes, she looked far from fine, but Harriet didn’t push it. She just gave her daughter a small nod and moved back into position.

Clawdeen stayed in the middle, her hands folded in her lap, occasionally leaning right or left to allow room for the rest of the family to pile in. They all smiled at her- it was with such obvious pity that it almost made Clawdeen’s hackles rise, but she said nothing, knowing they were trying- and gave her a hug.

Howleen got the window to her right, while Howie sat to her right. Clawdeen looked over her shoulder to see Pawla, Barker, Furrsey, and Hairron were squished in the back.

“Where are Rocks and them?” she asked as she turned back.

“Another car,” Howleen commented, “Dad didn’t want to pay for another rental, but he figured better safe than sorry on the road.”

“I know we usually go for the squish-like-sardines trick, but after seeing how everyone drives like a fucking blind man, I didn’t want to risk it,” Clawrk said.

That made Clawdeen smiled. “Yeah, it’s pretty bad.”

Clawrk shot her a smile, before he turned to look over his shoulder at all of them.

“Okay, everyone buckled in?” he asked.

“Yeah!” Barker exclaimed from the backseat.

“I’m ready,” Howie said, crossing his arms and slouching against the window, “Wake me up when we get there.”

“Good,” Clawrk replied, looking down at the gearshift, “Then let’s get this show on the road.”

Clawdeen smiled as she heard Pawla and her brothers give out little shouts of “Yay!” from behind her as Clawrk put the shift into drive and pulled out of the waiting area. She rested her head against the seat, staring out the windshield as her father drove and got onto the road.

She turned away as she felt a hand lightly rest on the back of her wrist. Howleen was looking at her with a bit of concern.

“Are you okay?” she asked softly, trying not to be too loud as Harriet was giving Clawrk directions to the airport, “You seem really tense.”

 _I’m definitely not going to be if everyone keeps asking me that fucking question,_ a bitter part of Clawdeen’s mind thought.

Of course she wasn’t fine.

She didn’t know if she would ever honestly be “fine” again.

But, she kept this part to herself. Instead, she nodded and looked back out between their parents’ seat.

“Yeah, I’m just...still in shock, I guess,” she said, “I...still can’t believe this is happening.”

Howleen smiled, “Well it is. We’re finally going back and you’re going with us. And we all couldn’t be gladder. I’m...I’m really glad you’re back with us.”

Clawdeen looked back at her, surprised to hear the honest joy in her sister’s voice. Howleen kept her gaze turned downward, but Clawdeen could see the emotion clear in her eyes.

“We all are,” Harriet said, turning back around in her seat to look at her.

Clawdeen met her eyes. She turned them to the rearview mirror, where she could see her father giving her the same glance. To the left, Howie dozed off, unaware of the conversation being overheard. Clawdeen looked behind her; the pups were already fast asleep, the three of them leaning on one another as they snored. Through the back window, she could see Clawd trailing behind them in the other rental car, Don in the passenger seat beside him.

Facing forward again, Clawdeen was silent. Her face was neutral.

Then, slowly, a small but earnest smile touched her lips.

She looked down and took hold of Howleen’s hand and gave it a light squeeze. Howleen lifted her head.

“I’m...I’m really glad to be back, too,” Clawdeen said wordlessly.

Howleen grinned back. Silently, she rested her head against Clawdeen’s shoulder, keeping their hands interlocked.

Clawdeen took a deep breath. For the moment, the fear and uncertainty she was feeling at the hotel was numbed by the feeling of her heart swelling with a small warmth at the thought.

She was finally going to be where she belonged.

She was going home.

She was alive, and she was going home.

Appeased for the moment, she closed her eyes and rested her head against Howleen’s, allowing herself to fall into a light sleep against the steady sounds of the light traffic around them from outside.


	2. Chapter 1: No Place Like Home

_There was a forest out in front of her. Clawdeen looked around- it wasn’t one she recognized. The tall trees on each side towered over her like they could touch the heavens, their thick tops blocking out the sky above her, save for the break in the middle where they formed a ring, exposing just a sliver of the atmosphere beyond. The sky was pitch black. Everything was covered in snow. It was deathly quiet._

_Clawdeen sniffed the air; the familiar scents of wet bark and dead leaves greeted her back. She looked down at herself, finding that she had to raise a paw to do so. She was in her primitive form, with her mouth now a pointed muzzle and her hair having fallen out to be replaced by a thick mane of auburn fur around her head and chest area. She could feel her tail lightly swishing behind her, flicking the back of her legs with water as it dragged up melted snow from the ground._

_She closed her eyes and tried to change back. Nothing came to her. Clawdeen looked over her shoulder at her lycan body in confusion. Had she somehow gotten stuck? And where the hell was she?_

“ _Silly little ghoul, I didn’t say you could leave...”_

_Clawdeen froze. The cold air was nothing compared to the chill that went down her spine at that voice._

_She stared ahead at the dark clearing in front of her and bolted from the spot._

_It wasn’t long before her lungs were burning with exertion. Her paws were numb and ice crystals stung her nose as she ran through the forest, stumbling over dead branches and roots._

_No...Clawdeen thought….No, he can’t be here, he won’t get me, I won’t let him, NO!_

“ _You fucking dog!” the voice repeated; she couldn’t place where it was coming from, “You wild little bitch! You are NOTHING without me!”_

_No! Clawdeen thought sharply, I won’t go back, I won’t!_

_The voice was sultry this time as it drawled out, “I always knew you wanted it...Daddy’s baby ghoul, always so hot your Daddy...”_

“ _LEAVE ME ALONE!” Clawdeen howled, throwing herself forward to pick up speed._

_It was like it was everywhere and nowhere. All around her, the voice seemed to be coming, from the tops of the trees to the ground near the bushes, whispering and yet shouting at her, teasing yet cruel._

_She knew who it belonged to. If she didn’t get away from it, she was a dead wolf._

_Then, suddenly, the voice was beside her._

“ _Selena.”_

_Clawdeen screamed and whipped her head to the side. Nothing but miles upon miles of trees greeted her back._

_Having taken her gaze away from her forward direction, she failed to notice the dead log that lay across her path. Her forelegs smacked hard against it as the sudden halt in momentum sent her entire back weight plunging forward. Clawdeen flipped over the log and smacked the wet ground with a yelp and found herself tumbling down a hill, rocks and twigs digging painfully into her body._

_She saw a flash of orange out of her peripheral, before she landed at the bottom of the hill; Clawdeen squirmed on her side and reared her head back with a scream as her forelegs and chest suddenly lit up with searing pain._

_The pads of her paws burned as she scrambled to get out of the bed of embers and still burning wood she had landed in. Clawdeen howled and batted at her chest to try and swipe the hot embers off her. Already, patches of her fur were burned and her skin was blistering._

“ _Look at you, you’re pathetic!” the voice screamed again, “You think anyone wants you after all this?!”_

_Clawdeen froze. She looked up at the treetops, trying to find any sign of where it could be coming from._

“ _Leave me alone!” she cried out, tears pricking her eyes, “Just leave me alone!”_

_Her demands went unanswered. Everywhere, the voice called out to her, whispering and shouting together as if there was a whole chorus present._

“ _Stupid whore!”_

“ _Just imagine what you’re family would think if they saw you...”_

“ _You’re just a fucking disease-ridden fleabag whore! Who would want you back?!”_

“ _Stop!” Clawdeen bowed her head, unable to stop the cruel jeers from coming, “Just leave me alone!”_

“ _SELENA!”_

_This one was so close that it made her ears ring from the high pitch of its tone. Clawdeen’s eyes snapped open._

_Suddenly, she was in her regular form again and being thrown onto her back._

_There was a pair of hands around her throat. Blue eyes as pale as raw turquoise glared down at her like they were piercing right through her soul. Clawdeen’s heart thumped with terror._

“ _Thought you were really going to be rid of me, you little cunt?” Aran hissed as he tightened his grip around her windpipe._

_Blackness started creeping in. There were no red or blue lights around to stop him, only the harsh whistle of the wind as it whipped around them and the snow seeping into her back._

_No, Clawdeen thought, No…._

_NO!_

Clawdeen sat straight up, a strangled gasp escaping her as her hands flew to her throat. Her heart beat against her rib cage wildly as she panted. Her mouth felt more parched than a desert during a heat wave.

Her hands clawed wildly at her neck, attempting to pry off the hands she had felt so tightly around them. All she felt under them, though, was bare skin.

Her breathing slowly evened out as she made sense of this. Clawdeen looked up from her lap at her surroundings. Instead of the icy forest, she saw the familiar purple walls of her and Howleen’s bedroom.

Glancing around at the furniture and the door to the bathroom, Clawdeen felt herself come down from the adrenaline rush. _It was only a dream,_ she realized. Thoughts of the night’s prior events quickly rushed through her mind.

She was finally back in New Salem. Her and her family had taken a red-eye flight, of which lasted a grueling six hours, from Washington DC to McScary Field airport. Clawdeen had spent most of it asleep, emotionally and physically exhausted to the point she conked out almost as soon as her head lay against the window. It was also a small blessing that they were some of the only passengers on the flight.

The plane had finally landed at at the airport a little ways past two in the morning; Clawdeen had felt like she was about to drop as they got in their car, but the minute she saw their house coming into view, it had been like all her tiredness had, for the moment, just completely evaporated as she sat straight up in her seat and gazed at it.

Slowly, it had started to sink in that she was truly home and never again would she spend another night in DC in some leaky, cold apartment while waiting to pleasure perverts in their cars, allowed to sleep in her own bed and in her own home, and before she knew it, she was bawling her eyes out in the backseat.

Her family had gone silent and they all spent a good ten minutes or so crowded around her, hugging her and comforting her.

“ _Meow?”_

Clawdeen looked down. Crescent stared at her from where she lay at the foot of her bed, her sharp green eyes regarding Clawdeen with an expression that vaguely resembled concern.

Unexpectedly, Clawdeen felt tears fill her eyes. She silently reached over and gathered the plump purple cat from her spot, holding her tightly to her chest as she nuzzled Crescent’s fur with her nose. Crescent purred and snuggled into her embrace, trying to provide comfort to her beloved owner.

As her and Howleen had made their way up to their bedroom, Clawdeen had thought she had finally cried all the tears she had in her for the night. Nothing, though, could have prepared her for the sight of turning on the light of the bedroom and seeing Crescent- now fat and whose fur had streaks of grey laced through it- laying on her bed, like she always did when Clawdeen came home from school.

“She’s waited for you there every day for the last five years,” Howleen said as a stunned Clawdeen stared, “She’s never given up thought that she’d see you again.”

Despite being old and noticeably having to take a bit of effort to get to her feet, Crescent immediately shot to her feet at the sight of her owner and jumped into Clawdeen’s arms. Clawdeen thought she would make herself sick with how hard she started crying all over again.

Now, just like she did whenever she could sense her owner was in distress, she cuddled with Clawdeen and tried to soothe her as the werewolf wept into her fur.

Clawdeen sniffled and glanced around the room, like she had to double check that she was really here and wasn’t still caught up in a dream.

It had felt so real. The cold of the forest, the feel of Aran’s hands around her neck, the burning of the embers as they pressed against her skin.

She felt a sinking feeling in her stomach as she thought of Aran- of those harsh blue eyes and the power they had held over her for the past five years. That they still held over her, even now. It was like somehow, from the jail cell he sat in, Aran was making sure she didn’t forget about him. _Couldn’t_ forget about him.

 _It’s all right, it was just a dream,_ she tried telling herself, _He’s in jail, you’re far away from him, he can’t hurt you anymore._

Even though she tried to reassure herself of this, Clawdeen found she couldn’t draw much comfort from the thoughts.

A sudden rumble in her stomach managed to distract her before she dwell on it further. Clawdeen looked down at her stomach. It let out another growl of hunger. She looked at the clock on her nightstand. It was already half past noon.

Crescent looked up at her as Clawdeen placed her down near the pillow and tossed the blanket back to sit on the edge of the bed. As she stood up, Clawdeen grimaced as she felt her knees ache in protest. The infection that had invaded her joints had steadily gone down as Doctor Yokai had put her on antibiotics, but her knees were still stiff as the lingering bacteria caused them to remain inflamed. It made her feel like an old monster with arthritis.

Ignoring the pain for now, Clawdeen made her way to the bathroom to relieve herself. Afterward, she left the room and headed downstairs for some food. Crescent trotted down after her.

On the way, she paused on the railing as she noticed several picture frames on the walls that she didn’t remember being there. All of them displayed the Wolf family in a variety of settings: Clawd dressed in a tux besides Draculaura, who wore a formal pink dress; Rocks holding up a track trophy in his hands; Weredith and Packlynn sitting at the table, a birthday cake with a large candle in the shape of the number five in front of them, both wearing big smiles at the camera. Several of them had her siblings dressed at what were obviously their high school graduations, all of them wearing long black gowns with magenta sashes over their shoulders and graduation caps on their heads, each of them holding their diploma holders out in front of them.

Another pang went through Clawdeen at the sight. That was right; by this point, everyone all the way to Nino would be out of school by now. Everyone...except her.

Yet another thing in her life stolen from her. All of them were growing up, figuring out who they were and wanted in life and going on their own paths in terms of career and family. And she didn’t get to be there to witness it.

Instead, she gone to spend those moments servicing married businessmen in the privacy of their hotel rooms and truck drivers in the bathroom of various rest stops, making thousands of dollars that was quickly taken away by Aran at the end of the night. Depending on her behavior and how the latter was feeling, it was also accompanied by either Aran giving her a black eye or having sex with her as a means to “reward” her.

There were so many things she missed and would never get back. It wasn’t fair.

Her fists balled as she felt like crying again. Clawdeen blinked the tears out of her eyes and shoved those feelings to the back of her mind for now. All she wanted was some food, not to have a meltdown on the fucking stairwell.

Crescent glanced up at her. She meowed up at the werewolf and touched her calf with her paw. Clawdeen ignored her and went on downstairs before she could further grieve over all the events she had missed.

In the kitchen, Harriet was sitting in a stool at the island, a cup of coffee in her hands and her bank book and tablet out in front of her. She looked up as Clawdeen stepped on a loose board near the entrance way that caused it to creak.

“Hi sweetie,” she greeted, “Did you sleep well?”

 _No,_ Clawdeen thought, but instead she shrugged and answered, “It was okay.”

She knew that with the evident dark circles under her eyes that her mom would be able to tell that it wasn’t quite the truth, but Harriet just nodded and got up from her seat.

“Are you hungry? I made pancakes for everyone this morning, and we thought to save you some,” she said, walking over to the fridge to grab the container.

Clawdeen shook her head. As hungry as she was, the thought of pancakes with syrup, or any other food that was either sticky or super sweet, made her nauseous almost to the point that she lost her appetite.

“I think I’ll be fine with just a sandwich,” she mumbled, noting how it was already the afternoon, “Nothing too strong.”

Harriet nodded and put the container back. To Clawdeen’s surprise, she then started to pull out lunch meats and some vegetables.

“I-I can make it myself,” Clawdeen protested, “You don’t have to-”

“It’s fine. I was about to eat anyway,” Harriet insisted. She nodded over to the kitchen island, “Go have a seat, I’ll make us both lunch.”

When Clawdeen stayed in the doorway, eyeing her doubtfully, Harriet paused and gave her a look.

“Clawdeen, please, I want to,” she said. It was subtle enough that anyone else would’ve missed it if they weren’t familiar with the older she-wolf, but Clawdeen detected a hint of desperation in her mother’s voice. It was a tone she’d never heard before; it was then that she realized that this was just as much Harriet’s attempt to find some comfort in the situation as she was trying to right now.

Relenting, Clawdeen nodded and took a seat at the stool that Harriet had just been occupying as the older alpha got out the necessary ingredients and the panini maker and started going about making their sandwiches.

“Where is everyone else?” Clawdeen asked as she watched her.

“Well, Clawd left after we got home, and he’s at work now,” Harriet answered as she cut slices of tomato, “But he’ll be joining us for dinner around five or so. Leena and the triplets are in class right now, but Don only has one that started at eleven, so he’ll be back around one to hang around until he has to go pick them up. The twins and sextuplets are at school, and Nino’s helping your dad on his latest project.”

She smiled at the last part and looked up at Clawdeen as she spread some mayonnaise on a slice of white bread. “He’s really taken with the job. Says he’s thinking about taking over the family business when he’s older and your father has decided to retire.”

That made Clawdeen raise her brows in surprise. Nino? Working construction? She had a short moment of horror imagining all the things that could go wrong with her younger brother being left in charge of using heavy lifting equipment or a drill (there was a reason why their dad only let him watch while he did repairs around the house, and that was with a six foot distance between them).

 _Then again, he’s always been like a furry bulldozer,_ she countered, _Maybe it’s good he found something where his clumsiness brings good out of it._

She smiled briefly in amusement, but the feeling didn’t last as the thought that Nino _was_ indeed now old enough to be working sunk in. She thought of how his entire frame had changed from when they were teenagers; her wild baby brother, all grown up.

Just how many milestones and events in her family’s life did she miss?

Suddenly, she was struck by a tight pain occurring in her lower abdomen. Clawdeen grimaced and groaned as she bent over, holding her sides. Her muscles felt like they were being wound up in a coil that was at the point of snapping.

Harriet paused in making the sandwiches at the sound of distress and looked up to see her daughter doubled over. She rushed around the side of the island and put her hands on Clawdeen’s shoulders.

“What’s wrong? Where’s it hurting?” she asked.

“Just another cramp,” Clawdeen replied in a small voice, trying to take deep breaths to soothe the pain.

“Did you take your medicine yet?” Harriet asked.

Clawdeen shook her head. Harriet rubbed her back in comfort.

“You should take it after you eat,” she said, “You remember the doctor said it’s best to take it around the same time each day. And that way you’re not taking it on an empty stomach.”

Clawdeen nodded begrudgingly. She knew it was for the sake of her health, but already she had grown to loathe the bitter pills that were currently treating her. Their big, bulky shapes felt like she was swallowing rocks whenever she took them and they tasted like they’d been made from salt taken right from the Dead Sea.

She hated what they stood for. Antibiotics to treat not one, but two infections she’d obtained from her encounters with all the strange men she’d been forced to bed. The perfect fucking cherry on top to complete her transformation into a common street whore that was good for nothing but fucking and sucking and getting on her knees like a dog. It made her feel rotten and dirty, her womb nothing more than festering cesspool of decay.

Harriet pulled away from her and went back to making their lunch. Clawdeen turned her attention back to her, grateful for the distraction. She watched absentmindedly as her mom put the sandwiches together and placed them on the panini to let them toast for a few seconds.

“You craving anything to drink?” she asked as she opened the fridge to put anything back.

Clawdeen shook her head. “Nothing in particular,” she murmured.

She thought for a moment about telling her mom about the dream she had had, but then decided against it. Her parents had plenty on their plates at the moment, she didn’t need to burden them any more with her laments about how she couldn’t sleep at night.

Besides, she’d been having nightmares for years. She managed just fine on her own then, what were a few more bad nights?

She blinked and glanced down as Harriet’s arm passed in front of her vision and something was placed in front of her. She was surprised to see it was a can of Syren’s Best Sarsaparilla, her favorite soda.

“I knew we still had a few cans,” Harriet said with a smile. She went over to the panini and grabbed her spatula. She lifted the sandwiches out and placed them on paper plates. She took a knife and cut one of them in half; she turned towards the top of the fridge and grabbed a bag of chips from the basket on top. She opened it and poured the chips out onto the plate of the sandwich she had cut, before she finally pushed it all towards Clawdeen.

She stood back with her hands on her hips, a proud smile on her face. “Well,” she said, gesturing to the food, “Dig in.”

Clawdeen looked down at the plate, her stomach rumbling in approval at the sight of the sandwich and chips. She grabbed one half of the sandwich and took a bite, chewing thoughtfully. The taste of toasted bread, melted cheese, and fresh meat was heaven to her mouth.

She pulled the sandwich away to eye its contents. It was roast beef with tomato, lettuce, and mustard. Clawdeen paused. It was her favorite kind of sandwich.

She looked down at the chips. Salt and vinegar, another one of her favorites. Her chewing slowed; she swallowed her bite hard as a sudden lump appeared in her throat.

Three of her favorite things. Her mother hadn’t forgotten, even after all this time. She even remembered to toast it exactly the way Clawdeen liked it, so that the cheese was nice and gooey and stringy when she bit into it. She had added exactly all the condiments Clawdeen had liked as well.

It felt like something had suddenly struck her heart. Clawdeen took another bite and chewed slowly as she savored the flavors. She had another realization that made the feeling stronger: this was the first time in years that she got some of her mom’s cooking. She had missed it dearly, having always managed to taste the love and care that went into it as her mom made each thing specifically with each kid’s favorite ingredients in mind.

Hell, it was the first time in a long time that she got to eat something that was actually _fresh_ and not just reheated, processed junk food that came from a drive-thru or the aisles of a convenience store. Such little things she had taken for granted before then, never considering just how much they meant before they were cruelly ripped away from her.

Clawdeen lowered her sandwich, the lump in her throat making her unable to continue eating. Her vision blurred with tears- she cursed herself for getting so emotional for the third time in barely twenty-five minutes- and a deep, sad frown tugged at the corners of her mouth as she struggled to hold in the cries that she could feel wanting to escape.

Harriet, who had just began to dig into her own sandwich, stopped when she saw the sudden switch in emotion on her daughter’s face. Her brows furrowed.

“Clawdeen?” she said, “What’s wrong?”

Unable to hold it in any longer, Clawdeen let out a sharp sob and brought her hands up to her face to wipe at her cheeks as her tears spilled over her lids. Her shoulders bobbed up and down as she wept, her cries echoing through the house. Harriet was at her side instantly, holding her to her chest as she tried to calm her down.

“What is it?” she asked softly, gently stroking Clawdeen’s cherry oak curls, “What is it, _l’amori?_ What’s bothering you?”

The familiar Howlish word of affection only made Clawdeen cry harder. She wrapped her arms tightly around her mother’s waist and sobbed into her chest, breathing in deeply her defining smell and cherishing the feel of her embrace.

She pulled away briefly to look up at Harriet, her golden gaze glossy and troubled.

“I missed you so much,” Clawdeen said thickly, her voice cracking on the last word, “Every day when I was trapped there, I thought of you. I-I thought you didn’t care. I-I-I never realized how much of everything I missed until now...”

Harriet gaped at her from her statement. Her own eyes went shiny.

“Oh, baby,” she said, bringing Clawdeen to her chest. She bent her head down and kissed her hair, “Of course we cared. We never stopped looking, not once.”

They stood there for a few seconds, comforting one another as they wept. Clawdeen felt like she was six years old again as Harriet began to gently rock her in her arms, just like she did when Clawdeen was a pup and came running to her and Clawrk’s room after a bad storm. Harriet whispered gently into her ear and rubbed her back, her velvety tone soothing to the younger wolf’s ears.

“There, there,” Harriet whispered as she felt Clawdeen tremble and heard her release a small whine, “I’m here, _l’amori._ It’s all over now.”

Clawdeen took a deep breath and slowly, she calmed down. They finally pulled away from each other; Harriet’s eyeliner was slightly smudged as she wiped at her eyes. She gave a weak smile as she looked at Clawdeen and reached up to wipe at her daughter’s cheeks.

“There,” she said, “That better?”

Internally, Clawdeen was frustrated; she was tired of crying. She was tired of feeling _weak_. When she was a teenager, she would’ve never been so easily riled up like this. Now, it was like she couldn’t go half the day without having at least one meltdown. Even in the hospital, it was like every little thing that got her upset brought the waterworks.

She hated herself for it. She hated knowing just how fragile she’d become; it was such a far cry from the person she used to be.

But, she’d be lying if it didn’t make her feel better to be comforted by her mom. So she nodded. Harriet nodded in return and patted her leg.

“Good,” Harriet said, “Now how’s about we finish up our lunch?”

“Okay,” Clawdeen answered in a small voice.

They moved their plates over to the dining room table and made small talk as they ate. It was mostly Harriet doing the talking, really, while Clawdeen either nodded or answered with small little comments. It was nice, though. She didn’t really feel in the mood for talking.

“Do you want, maybe, the ghouls to come over later? Or sometime this week, if you’re up for it?” Harriet suddenly asked as she finished off the last bits of her sandwich, “I’m sure they’ve been waiting to be able to see you.”

Clawdeen, who’d been washing down some of her chips with her soda, paused. She lowered her soda can and stared at her mother.

“They...they know?” she asked.

Harriet nodded, “Your father and I, when we first got the news, we wanted to keep just between the family- the last thing any of us needs is one of those snot-nosed journalist sticking a camera and microphone in your face and trying to scoop out all the dirty laundry. But...we also know how much you ghouls love each other, so Vlad contacted them after we found out.”

Clawdeen looked at her plate, reeling from the revelation. Her heart swelled at the idea of seeing Laura and Frankie and the rest of them after all this time. How had they been doing? How much did they know about everything that had gone down?

She remembered how she had run into Operetta on a whim a few days after her fight with Shelby. Did the phantom tell anyone else about it? Or had she kept it to herself, not wanting to draw any other possible attention that could hurt Clawdeen? Where was she even now? Had she stayed in DC, trying to be on the lookout for the werewolf, or had she gone back to Salem?

Over the years that she had been trapped in DC, the only friends she had managed to make was Crescencia and the rest of the girls that were living at the apartment, all of them also forced into working for a pimp who had “bought” her. They had been Clawdeen’s greatest means of strength when it came to dealing with that hellhole, but nothing could compare to the bond she shared with her friends from Monster High.

The initial giddiness at the thought of her friends didn’t last, however, as she suddenly thought of her mother’s previous statement. _We wanted to keep it between the family._

Even though she consciously knew better, Clawdeen couldn’t help but bristle at that sentence.

 _They didn’t want anyone else to know because they’re embarrassed of you,_ the mocking voice in her mind said to her.

Clawdeen’s hands clenched her soda can. She knew upfront that wasn’t true, but she still found herself entertaining the thoughts.

It made sense that they wouldn’t want anyone else to know she was home yet. How could they let anyone see just what type of girl had been returned to them? Werewolves were supposed to be strong, courageous, ready to fight and stand their ground at any time of day, not cower back like a domesticated dog with their tails between their legs.

To see that people like Clawrk and Harriet- the alphas of their pack, both known to be natural born fighters and leaders who built their way up from the bottom and were not ones to stand for any wolf who tried to go against the pack or betray their way of life for their own selfish means- bring home someone like Clawdeen with the way she was now...it would be humiliating. She embodied nothing about the wolf spirit in the moment- she wasn’t strong or confident like she was when she was younger. Now, she was quiet and meek and used to only speaking when spoken to.

The wild beast had been beaten out of her. Nobody in the pack or at school who remembered her would recognize her at this point. It was shameful, just how much she allowed herself to be molded into this little servant. For many elder werewolves, she’d be considered a humiliation to her family, a stain upon their legacy. She was inferior, certainly not alpha material. For many elders, it would be considered better to pretend like she was still missing than to let the world know they had a weakling for a child now who couldn’t hold her own against a paper bag…

“I know what you’re thinking, and the reasons are not what you think, Deenie,” Harriet spoke up.

Clawdeen looked up at her, surprised. Her mother eyes were slightly stern now as she held eye contact with her. She took a hold of Clawdeen’s other hand and held them tightly in her own as she resumed talking. Her hands were warm and slightly calloused; it was a small comfort to Clawdeen.

“We didn’t want anyone else to know at first because we wanted to reveal it on _our_ own time,” Harriet explained, “You know how some of the people are in this neighborhood, they gossip like they need it as much as oxygen. When you...”

She swallowed, “When you went missing, it was a media firestorm here for weeks. Your father and I realized that if word got out too soon, that it would be the same thing. And I’d be damned if I let any of those vultures pick you apart like a Christmas dinner all so they could sensationalize it and make a quick buck off your pain and ours.”

She squeezed Clawdeen’s hands. Clawdeen searched her eyes for any sign of doubt, only to find warmth and the upmost sincerity in her mother’s identical yellow orbs. She started to feel bad for even allowing herself to form those thoughts.

“I-I’m sorry,” Clawdeen stated.

Harriet shook her head, “Don’t be. I realize now the wording comes out badly.”

She tried to change the subject. “Anyway, yes, all your friends know. Would you like me to tell Clawd to call them? They could come over later, if you’re feeling up to it.”

There was nothing more she yearned for than to finally see the ghouls she loved with all her heart again, but right now, Clawdeen found she was lacking the energy to talk to anyone else today. She’d only been up for an hour and already she cried enough to fill an entire lake. She truly did want to see her friends, but she didn’t feel like she was mentally prepared for it.

She shook her head. “Not today,” she said in a low voice, “I just...want to relax today. Look around and get settled in again. Just...catch my breath and make sure this is all real.”

Harriet chuckled, “Yeah, I get it. No problem in baby steps.”

She stood up and gathered their plates. “For now, though, you should take your medicine. I’ll put everything away.”

Clawdeen nodded and replied, “Okay.”

They stood up at the same time. Harriet held out her arms and allowed Clawdeen to hug her again, the latter wrapping her arms around her waist and pressing her cheek against her breastbone.

“I love you,” Clawdeen said softly.

“I love you, too, my sweet girl,” Harriet murmured, nuzzling the crown of her head.

Clawdeen then pulled away and headed in the direction of the stairs. She could hear Harriet moving around the kitchen behind her, putting the condiments and ingredients back in the fridge and throwing away their trash.

She made her way upstairs and headed to her and Howleen’s bathroom. There, on the counter of the sink, a plastic bag lay filled with a few labeled orange bottles.

Clawdeen pulled one of the bottles out and twisted the cap. She shook its contents into her palms; large, bulky, white pills about the size of eraser caps spilled out the bottle. She picked out two and put the rest back, before grabbing the plastic cup that lay beside the toothbrush holder and filling it up with water.

Right as she was about to toss the pills back, Clawdeen paused and looked at her reflection. She looked a bit of a mess; her pajamas were all wrinkled and her hair was tangled and greasy. The circles and bags under her eyes looked even worse than she thought- she looked like she hadn’t slept for a century. The bruises on her face had since healed up, but her skin retained a degree of sallowness that came from lack of proper nutrition and rest. From under her sleeve, the black ink of the crass tattoo that had been forcibly drilled into her skin stood out like tar against mud on her arm.

She glanced down and pulled at the hem of her pajama top. The set had already been a few years old the last time she had worn them, when she was a teenager, but instead of Clawdeen outgrowing them, now they actually were too baggy on her. The white shirt hung off her thin frame, taking away any shape and making her look boxy, while her leopard print pajama pants were still too baggy even after Clawdeen had tied the drawstrings as tightly as she could, making them sag slightly off her waist and pool around her feet.

Clawdeen looked back into the mirror and eyed her hair. She reached up and grabbed a handful that fell over her shoulder. She gave it a light tug; several strands broke off into her hand with ease. They felt brittle and stiff.

She made no reaction to this. Instead, Clawdeen opened her mouth and put the pills on her tongue, before she took a sip of water from the plastic cup; she made a face at the acrid taste of the pills as they started to rub off on her taste buds and placed the cup back down as she stared back into her reflection.

Would her friends recognize her this way, she wondered? She thought she looked older; there were premature lines around her eyes and mouth. Some hair care and makeup could probably take care of most of it, but she knew they’d pick up on the dull, tired glaze that was present in her eyes. Just from under the collar of her night shirt, Clawdeen could see her collarbones jutting out like the skin had been stretched taught over them.

Her gaze briefly drifted to one of the numerous burn scars that decorated her arms. She rubbed it slowly, tracing the wrinkled skin.

Clawdeen frowned. She furrowed her brows at her reflection, taking in all the little things about her appearance. She looked up and noticed that there were various changes to the bathroom as well. The shower curtain had been replaced, and new towels on the racks.

It was like everywhere she looked, something about it was different than it was last time she had seen it. It made Clawdeen feel like a stranger in her own home, an outsider intruding on a happy family.

She felt like she didn’t belong.

And...what if she didn’t? Everyone else had moved on with their lives and was making something of themselves, except for her. She had nothing to show for her life of the last five years except for scars that stood out like rashes on her skin and a completely shattered sense of self. She couldn’t as so much as go to sleep now without fearing that everything was just one long lasting dream. She was pathetic.

Her family said they’d help her along the way, but just how long could they stand it? How much could they take?

What if she was too far gone to fit into their world anymore? There was only so much patience a person could have, and Clawdeen wasn’t exactly showing improvement in her behavior any time soon…

A blanket of despair wrapped around her tightly. Clawdeen suddenly felt small, like she was a mouse. A little vermin who had wormed its way into a place it didn’t belong and being a nuisance to everyone around her.

Dejected, she forced herself to turn away from the mirror and head back to her bedroom and get a change of clothes. She walked into the bathroom again and closed the door behind her so she could shower.

At least in the shower, nobody would be able to see her cry.

* * *

Clawdeen sat on the sofa, watching the TV mindlessly. Crescent lay stretched out on her lap, napping peacefully. On the screen, two cryptid women dressed in expensive jewelry and clothes argued with one another over something or another; it was a trashy reality show that she had just flipped to, she wasn’t really paying attention to what was going on.

The rest of her day had been relatively slow. After having another sobbing fit in the shower, Clawdeen had dressed and brushed her hair. Harriet had been busy paying bills, so she thought it’d be best to spend her time trying to find something to do to just take her mind off everything for a little bit.

It was a feat that quickly proved much harder than she thought. Clawdeen found she couldn’t focus on anything she decided to do. She tried reading a random book off the shelf in the family room, but after spending five minutes reading the same line no less than four times, she gave up. She thought listening to some music could help distract her, only to become dismayed as the bubbly, upbeat lyrics served as a complete contrast to her mood. Now, she tried surfing through the channels to find something to watch, but couldn’t muster up much excitement for whatever movie or show was playing right now.

On TV, one of the women, a vampire with long black hair, suddenly threw her champagne glass of blood into the face of the kitsune she’d been arguing with.

“ _That’s what I think of you and Foxglove,”_ she snarled and turned to walk away, “ _Have fun with my sloppy seconds, you whore.”_

The kitsune cringed and let out a surprise cry as she was soaked. As she wiped the blood from her eyes, she whirled around and glared at the vampire murderously.

“ _Oh, that’s what we’re about?”_ she questioned angrily.

The vampire turned around and spat out, “ _Yeah, that’s what the fuck we’re about!”_

“ _Bitch!”_ the kitsune exclaimed, before she ran at the vampire and reached up to yank at a handful of her hair. Quickly, the two started fighting, throwing blind punches and pulling out each other’s extensions as the show’s producers struggled to break them up.

Clawdeen winced as she watched the fight go down. She used to love watching these kinds of shows and bearing witness to all the drama, but now, as the kitsune and vampire threw insults at each other and yanked at each other’s hair and clothes, all it did was make her feel sick.

It brought back memories of her fight with Shelby. Her stomach churned as she thought of the events that occurred the next night afterward, when Aran and Grady stood back and watched as the former ordered her to beat Shelby until she was pleading with Clawdeen to stop, to which then Grady then finished by beating the sea monster more within an inch of her life.

That night had been one of the most terrifying and shameful experiences of Clawdeen’s life. She remembered fearing, as Grady continued to punch an unmoving, bleeding Shelby, that he had actually managed to kill her. She would never forgive herself for willingly bringing such harm to someone who, at the end of the day, was just as much a victim as she was. Never in that moment had she been filled with such hate, and it terrified Clawdeen to know she was capable of such violence.

Now, as she watched the fight on TV, she felt a sense of disgust. How did people watch this without feeling any sort of indignity? To watch and encourage two people over fight, especially over stupid, petty bullshit like a fucking guy, it was revolting. She questioned how she ever found enjoyment over something like this and just laughed when people were getting hurt and manipulated.

Unable to watch anymore of it, Clawdeen grabbed the remote and changed the channel. She landed on a music channel that broadcast music videos day and night. Currently, the video that was playing was one by Catty Noir. It and the song were not ones that Clawdeen was familiar with, and it was obviously one made in recent years, judging by the way that Catty looked much older and her hair had been cut in a shorter style and streaked with teal highlights.

 _Thanks for another reminder of life I didn’t get to live,_ Clawdeen thought sourly. This was turning out to be a bit of a bad day. She decided to just flip the TV off and sat there in silence for a few minutes, stroking Crescent’s fur as she sat back in the chair and stared off into space. She hadn’t even felt this bored at the hospital.

The silence didn’t do much to improve her mood either, though, so with a frustrated growl, Clawdeen held Crescent and stood up from the couch. Crescent lifted her head and gave a tired meow, confused at the sudden movement.

“I’m going upstairs,” Clawdeen muttered as she passed by her mom.

“You need anything?” Harriet asked over her shoulder, detecting the irritation in her tone.

“No,” Clawdeen answered as she went back up the stairs.

She headed to her bedroom and put Crescent down at her feet. She closed the door behind her and leaned her back against it. Closing her eyes, Clawdeen tilted her head up and took a deep breath.

“Why can’t I relax?” she asked herself, “It’s like every time I try to do something, something always puts me on edge like everything’s about to go to hell any second.”

Deep down, though, she knew exactly why.

Clawdeen walked over to her bed and sat down, resting her back against the headboard that held the ladder to the top bunk. She grabbed one of her pillows and held it against her chest as she stared at the wall, contemplating her situation.

When she was in the hospital, she’d been too caught up in the relief of finally being rescued and being reunited with her family to really think about what would occur once they left. Now that she was back home, though, it was time to face everything that had been pushed to the back of her mind.

The biggest thing being what would happen to Aran.

Clawdeen’s claws dug themselves into her pillow. The last thing she’d heard about the satyr was that he was still in jail. But didn’t people who got arrested usually get a bail set, so they didn’t have to stay in jail before their court date?

Her stomach clenched at the thought. If Aran was able to be out free before he went to trial, there was no telling what he’d do in between then and now. He could skip town and leave the country and hide out somewhere else under a fake identity. Or he could hire someone to finish the job for him, give him the last laugh before he got sentenced.

She thought back to the night that she first tried to escape, what happened when Aran found out. Clawdeen winced; that night remained one of the most traumatic experiences she’d ever been through.

 _One phone call, Selena, that’s all I need,_ Aran had hissed at her as he held her against the wall with his hand around her neck, _One phone call and I can have every one of those motherfuckers dead on the spot!_

Clawdeen felt her heart start to pick up in rate as those words echoed through her head like someone yelling loudly in the vast hallway of an abandoned hospital. She never doubted those words once; he certainly had the resources for doing it.

He knew her name. That alone was enough information for him to do whatever he wanted with her. Maybe he wanted to make sure she couldn’t talk, maybe he wanted revenge for her being the reason for screwing him or the other guys over. Maybe he just wanted to make one final statement to her that he was the one in control. He could easily look her up on her social media and find out where she lived and who her family was.

He could hire someone to kill her when she was alone. Or kill someone in her family to send a message to her. She heard about it all the time in the true crime shows she watched- someone hiring a hitman to silence those who could ruin their lives by sending them to prison. If not kill her outright, then keep an eye on her, have someone watch her to make sure she couldn’t rat on him and his other activities. He could tap into her mom or dad’s phones, or hack into her e-mail. Hell, for all she knew, he could already have someone watching the house to find the best time to strike.

She looked out the window fearfully, halfway expecting to find some ominous figure standing across the street and staring back at her. A paranoid chill went down her spine and she felt goosebumps break out on her skin. Clawdeen rubbed her arms, suddenly feeling watched. She looked around her bedroom, like she would suddenly see a camera or something out of place that would tell her someone else besides Howleen had been here.

“Stop it,” Clawdeen hissed at herself; she closed her eyes and pressed her fists against the sides of her head, “You’re just freaking yourself out. He’s not here, he doesn’t know where you are, he can’t hurt you.”

For now, maybe. But who was to say that she’d be safe for long? From his clothes and his car, he was rich enough to afford a good lawyer. If Aran knew the right strings to pull, there was always the chance he wouldn’t even go to prison. Rich guys like him almost never did.

Which meant he could be right back out on the streets like nothing had ever happened. He’d be a free man, able to go back to kidnapping and raping whatever other girl he saw that he got enough of a hard-on for. There was even the chance he’d try to get Clawdeen back- he always said she was his favorite.

Clawdeen’s breaths came as shallow pants as she lost herself to these dark fantasies. She started to tremble and her body shifted in various degrees of hot and cold. Sweat broke out under her arms and on her forehead.

Everything became a gray haze as her senses dulled. Realizing what was about to happen, Clawdeen rolled onto her side and curled into the ball. She gripped the pillow for dear unlife, a feeling like she was suffocating even with every breath she took making her chest burn.

Just as she was about to lose herself to the incoming anxiety attack, she was suddenly brought back to reality by the touch of a furry paw on her face. Clawdeen glanced up; Crescent stared down at her over her shoulder, her eyes wide with worry at the strange way the werewolf was acting.

“Meow?” Crescent pawed her shoulder again, like she was trying to ask a question, “Rrrreow?”

It was the lifeline Clawdeen needed to keep from going over the edge. She took deep breaths and was able to calm her heart rate, and she closed her eyes as she managed to get herself under control. She hugged the pillow tighter to her to take in its scent, the faint traces of Howleen’s scent a comfort; she managed a small smell, said scent letting her know right away her sister had borrowed this pillow at one time or another.

When her body no longer felt like it was a broken thermostat flipping to either extreme end, Clawdeen rolled over onto her opposite side and reached out to stroke Crescent’s fur. The tubby cat purred in satisfaction and flipped onto her back as Clawdeen scratched her chest.

“I feel like I’m walking on a tightrope, Cressy,” Clawdeen lamented to her as she petted her, “It’s like there’s this shadow cast over my mind that won’t let me be at peace for even a second.”

Crescent looked up at her with a sad expression. She nuzzled Clawdeen’s hand and gave it a small lick in a show of comfort.

Clawdeen gave her a small half-smile of appreciation and continued to pet her. She sighed and the two of them lay there, neither in the mood for doing much of anything now.

It wasn’t long before Clawdeen found herself dozing off, and she lay back against her pillow to get more comfortable, before her breathing evened out and she fell into a deep sleep. When she awoke from her nap, she lifted her head from her pillow and squinted to look at the window. The sky outside was pinkish-orange with the late October sunset.

Under her, she could hear a muffled chorus of her family downstairs. The clock said it was now five-thirty; she’d been asleep for over an hour. Clawdeen glanced over. Crescent remain beside her, still fast asleep. Her claws flexed as she dreamt and her tail swished back and forth.

Clawdeen sat up and stretched her arms, before she turned from side to side in order to crack her back.

 _First day home, and I’ve achieved...absolutely nothing,_ she thought with a frown. She didn’t exactly know what she had planned on doing when she got back here, but just lying around like a couch potato made her feel lazy and unproductive.

Or maybe she just wasn’t used to having time to herself.

Clawdeen thought over this, slightly surprised at the realization; she hadn’t had a day to just herself in the longest time. When she was in DC, she was working every single day, whether it was working the street herself to get some John in a car or being chauffeured by Aran to whatever client he had arranged for her to service in their home or rented establishment. Holidays didn’t count for jack. From morning to night- sometimes even way past midnight- she was working tirelessly to meet her quota. Now, nothing was expected of her. She didn’t have to do anything.

It felt strange. Even in the hospital, she was kept busy by all the tests Dr. Yokai performed and the chats she’d have with her friends in the circle. She was so used to wearing herself ragged and doing something for someone else, that it seemed almost wrong to just be able to have time to herself for once.

What a sad, sad thought that was.

She turned her gaze towards the door as she heard a flurry of footsteps coming up the stairs. A second later, the doorknob turned and Howleen stepped in. She looked at Clawdeen cautiously.

“Hey,” she greeted, dropping her bag onto her desk chair, “How you’ve been?”

Clawdeen shrugged, “Fine. Just been...hanging.”

Howleen smiled, “That’s good. Um, Dad’s making dinner right now. He says it should be ready in about five minutes or so.”

“Okay. Um, I-I’ll be right down,” Clawdeen said, swinging her legs over the side so that her feet touched the floor.

“Before you do,” Howleen looked over her shoulder, “There’s um...someone who wants to see you.”

Clawdeen paused and looked up, curious. Howleen gave a little smile and stepped back. She turned her head to the side and nodded to someone standing out of sight, her eyes turned slightly downward.

A head of dark hair brushed past her and entered the room. Clawdeen gasped at the person who stood in front of her. There was a tightening feeling in her chest.

Dressed in her familiar black and pink color scheme, with her hair now completely black and lacking any sort of colorful dye, Draculaura smiled softly at Clawdeen, her lavender eyes just as bright and cheery as they had been as freshmen.

Clawdeen was speechless. She sat on the bed, too shocked to do anything at first, before she stammered out, “L-L-L-Lala?”

Draculaura nodded and greeted, “Hi, Deenie. It’s been too long.”

Clawdeen didn’t reply. She continued staring at Draculaura with a stunned expression that was almost comical. Howleen looked between the two of them.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” she said, lightly patting Laura’s shoulder. Laura glanced only briefly at her and gave her a small nod, before the tan wolf quickly slid out the room and closed the door behind her, leaving the two monsters alone.

Laura turned back to Clawdeen. The werewolf continued to gape at her like she was in a trance. Laura gave a small chuckle.

“I know, I probably messed up my eyeliner again,” she joked, “I swear, I’ve gotten better at putting my makeup on over time, but occasionally I still misjudge my sense of symmetry.”

The sound of her musical, accent-laced voice struck a cord in Clawdeen. Her ears lowered. She felt her lip quiver.

“Draculaura...” she croaked out. She reached out a hand towards the vampire, like she was afraid at any moment she would disappear.

Laura’s smile deepened. She offered out her arm as she stepped forward, allowing Clawdeen to pull her into a tight hug. Still sitting on the bed, she pressed her face against Laura’s stomach, inhaling her scent deeply, her arms wound around the latter’s waist.

“I know, I know,” Laura said in a small voice as she heard the werewolf begin to sniffle. She cupped the back of Clawdeen’s head and held her there as she felt her begin to shake.

Those small words were enough to get Clawdeen crying again. She sobbed into Laura’s sweater, her tears wetting the wool and creating a damp spot. The vampire gave her soft words of reassurance, just like Harriet had done, and reached into her pocket. She pulled out a handkerchief and tilted Clawdeen’s head back to start dabbing at her cheeks.

“Dammit,” Clawdeen said, “I didn’t want to do this again. It’s like all day all I can do is fucking cry.”

“That’s okay,” Laura replied, “It’s better to let it out than hold it all in. Besides, I do the same thing over more petty things. As you can probably attest to.”

That managed to get her a small giggle out of the werewolf. Clawdeen sniffed and took the handkerchief to wipe at her nose. Draculaura took a seat beside her and put her hand on her knee.

“So,” she began as Clawdeen dabbed at her eyes, “How are you feeling?”

Clawdeen laughed bitterly. How was she _not_ feeling?

“Oh, I’m just fine,” she said sarcastically, “Just got to spend the first night in my own room after five years of being everyone’s personal blowup doll on the other side of the country. Every fucking little thing is making me want to cry every five minutes, but you know, I’m peachy.”

The minute the words left her mouth, she felt great shame at the unnecessary bite in them. She shot Laura a flustered look.

“I-I-I’m sorry,” she said, “T-That was rude of me.”

Laura, however, didn’t seem to take any offense to the aggressive response. She shook her head, “Don’t be. You’re right, that was a bit of a stupid question, wasn’t it?

“Let me rephrase that,” she insisted, “How have you been handling everything, so far? I know Clawd said that you got a bit overwhelmed at the hospital...”

Mulling it over, Clawdeen’s gaze dropped to her lap, where her hands fiddled with the handkerchief. It was classical Draculaura style, white cotton hemmed with black lace and knitted pink flowers decorating one corner.

“I mean...it’s been a lot,” she finally spoke up, “It’s _weird,_ being back and being...normal, I guess.”

A thought occurred to her and she smiled, looking up at Laura. “I was really nice, though,” she added, “Having all them there and knowing they wanted to be there for me. It made feel...it made feel me really nice.”

It really had been touching to have all her family there, with all of them wanting to comfort her when she was down and worrying about her. Though her siblings’ constant hovering could be a bit bothersome at times as it made Clawdeen feel claustrophobic, it truly warmed her heart to know that, after all the stupid fights and arguments that they had gotten into and the times that she felt like nobody noticed her, that they had all grieved for her disappearance and she felt their love greatest while she was there in the hospital.

As she thought more about her visit, though, other memories of what happened there came back to her, and the smile slowly faded from her features.

“It’s been hard sometimes, too, though,” she admitted, “Sometimes I...I get scared at something they don’t expect, o-or respond in a way that they don’t think I would, they get...weirded out. O-Or not weirded out, but just...unsure. Dad and them try to act like they don’t, but I notice it.”

It hurt her to say it, but it was true. Clawdeen saw it clearly in their eyes, particularly her father and the boys. That sudden pause when they went to give her a hug and she inched back from them, or when one of them raised their voices just a bit too loudly and she cringed like it had been painful to her, or whenever one of them put their hand on her back or her shoulder or even her arm and she tensed up at it. She was...afraid of them. Nervous around them, like she expected them to yell at her or hit her or do _something_ to her that she didn’t want to do.

She knew she was acting like this and she hated it, but she couldn’t stop herself. It had been ingrained into her subconscious that touches of affection were really just ploys, ways of buttering her up so that the person doing it could get their own desires out of it, and intense emotions meant someone was upset. And when someone was upset, some way or another, it was always her fault.

And when it was her fault, pain was sure to follow.

Aran had seen to it that she was always aware of this latter lesson, with him spending many a night beating her for hours until she was barely conscious, sometimes even cutting and burning her so that the scars left behind could serve as a permanent reminder...

Draculaura gazed at Clawdeen sadly as she said this, watching as the werewolf’s face fell and a haunted look came into her eyes, clearly remembering something extremely unpleasant. She gripped her hand.

“They understand,” she said, “And if they don’t right now, they will. You need time. Nobody should expect you to be all about PDA right after everything that’s happened.”

Clawdeen gave her a look. Her brows furrowed, “How...much do you know?”

At first, Laura didn’t respond. There was a touch of pity in her eyes as she looked at Clawdeen.

“Everything that Clawd knows, he’s told me,” she finally responded.

Clawdeen nodded and hung her head. Embarrassment and shame burned in her stomach at the answer. Everything that Clawd knew didn’t even begin to break the surface of the hellish experiences she had and what she had seen or done. None of them knew the exact details or everything that was going in the exact moment of those certain instances.

Part of her feared that if they did, they wouldn’t _want_ to understand, and instead turn her away in what was bound to be absolute disgust of the depravity she had allowed herself to go to.

She felt Laura let go of her hand for a brief moment to replace it with her opposite one, while her original hand went up to cup her cheek. Clawdeen raised her head and regarded her with a lost look that tugged at the vampire’s heartstrings.

“No matter what, I’ll be here for you,” Laura said gently, “We’ll all be here. No matter how horrible you think you are for what you did, we love you and know you were scared.”

Clawdeen didn’t believe the full extent of those words, but she gave a small nod of understanding.

There was something sparkling on Laura’s hand, the one that lay over her own. Clawdeen glanced down to see it a rose-gold ring that Laura wore on her left ring finger, the gem a radiant-cut diamond of impressive size. It glittered as it caught the light from the sunset.

Clawdeen’s eyes widened. She glanced back up at Laura. “Is that a…?”

Laura smiled sheepishly. Her cheeks lit up bright pink as she nodded.

“Y-Yeah,” she confirmed, “We got engaged in May. We’re planning on getting married next winter.”

“Oh...” was all Clawdeen could say at first. As it sunk in, her face lit up, “O-Oh! Oh, wow! Congrats! I-I’m happy for you guys! I always had a feeling you’d two end up tying the knot, but to actually hear you’re on that way, just...wow!”

Her smile was earnest as she gave Laura a congratulatory hug. Laura giggled at the bright-eyed expression she wore and hugged her back.

“Yeah, I’m really excited,” she said after they separated, “You should’ve seen the look on his face when he proposed- poor thing was so nervous he almost dropped the ring right into the drain!”

Clawdeen rolled her eyes, “Yep, sounds just like Clawd there.”

The two of them shared a laugh at the mental image. Laura continued, “We’re planning on getting married in January. Right in time for the new year, you know? I actually just had an appointment with Jinafire about my dress and the ones for the bridesmaids-”

She suddenly stopped as she realized what she said, all good humor immediately disappearing off her face as well. Clawdeen’s smile instantly disappeared. Her shoulders dropped.

“C-C-Clawdeen,” Laura said, her face now flushed with embarrassment, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine,” Clawdeen said, “You’re excited. And you have a right to be. I mean, it’s your wedding! There’s so much planning and stuff that goes into it, every finished product means you’re one step closer, right?”

“Right,” Laura responded, although it lacked any of her previous fervor.

She mentally cursed herself for getting carried away with the topic of the wedding; the downtrodden and pained look Clawdeen had as soon as Draculaura mentioned the bridesmaid dresses let her know that it obviously pained her to know that said things had occurred without her being there.

They sat in silence, both of the shifting awkwardly on the bed, unable to find any words to rescue the conversation. Clawdeen continued to fiddle with the handkerchief, downtrodden.

Almost on cue, then, it was interrupted by Clawdeen’s stomach, which gave a loud gurgle that sounded like a bubbling cauldron.

The girls looked down, surprised. They looked up at one another.

They smiled. Then, both burst into laughter, which only increased as a loud grumble came from Draculaura’s own midsection.

“ _Clawdeen, Lala, the food’s ready!”_ Harriet called from downstairs.

That only made the two of them laugh harder. Laura grinned, “Talk about timing, right?”

“Yeah,” Clawdeen chuckled. She stood up from the bed, “I don’t know about you, but I’ve been kind of starving.”

“Me too,” Laura said as she stood up as well, “I haven’t gotten to eat anything since ten this morning. This job’s been working me to the bone lately.”

She stretched her arms above her head, before she let them go back down. She gave Clawdeen another smiled and stepped up to her. The two of them shared another hug.

“I love you so much,” she said into her ear, “I prayed every night, hoping that you’d return. I was so scared that one day, we’d get the news the worst had happened...”

Her voice became thick as she trailed off. Clawdeen hugged her tighter.

“I was scared too,” she admitted, “I’m...I’m back, though.”

Draculaura smiled, “Yes...you are.”

She held Clawdeen’s hands after they separated.

“Now,” she said, “I’m sure everyone will be very glad for us finally all able to eat together after so long.”

Clawdeen smiled, “So will I.”

They finally left the room, Draculaura leading the way while Clawdeen followed after her. She could smell the delicious scents of steak and boiled potatoes coming from the kitchen; her stomach growled in anticipation for the food. She could also hear everyone mulling around as they set the table and got themselves seated.

As they went down, though, she stared at the back of Draculaura’s head. She frowned and her brows furrowed together in a look of despondency.

It was true that she was happy for Clawd and Laura- even back in high school, they were very obviously in love and truly seemed to be the ones to stay together after graduation- but the revelation that they were now actually engaged and were currently wedding planning hit her like ton of bricks.

Back in school, her and Laura used to joke about the “what-ifs” of who would do what if they were ever a part of each other’s weddings. If there was ever one thing that was always the same for their talks (besides Clawdeen begging her, “Please, please, _please,_ for Skoll’s sake, Lala, don’t make everything just pink”), it was that Laura was insistent that Clawdeen be the one to make her dress.

“I could think of no greater honor than getting to wear one of your creations on one of the most important days of my unlife,” Laura said proudly. Clawdeen had honestly been touched by the remark.

But now Laura was actually getting married, and because Clawdeen didn’t get to be there, her dress was made by someone else. She didn’t even get to have a hand in the wedding process, because time had already passed, and unless something came up, all the planning had to be close to being at least halfway done.

Just how many milestones had passed by that she didn’t get to be part of?

Clawdeen felt devastated. All these big moments, all these big causes for happiness and celebration, she didn’t get to share in. She didn’t get to be there when Weredith and Packlynn started school, she didn’t get to see Clawd or Howleen or the rest of her brothers when they graduated, and now, her older brother and her best friend were getting married and she didn’t get to see it all unfold.

She was nothing more than the elephant in the room. The odd one out. Only a topic of gossip amongst the other parents and townsfolk behind the scenes as such celebrations occurred.

Her fists clenched.

Clawdeen took a deep breath. She didn’t want to get all riled up again, especially when they were about to sit down for dinner.

After all, this should be a happy occasion- it would be her first dinner together with the family since everything that had happened. This was a time for joy, not melancholy.

Still, as her and Laura joined the rest of the family in the dining room- Clawdeen doing her best to be all smiles, though something about the way they all looked at her told her it wasn’t all too convincing of an act- that feeling of her being the outsider lingered like a stomach ache.

Everyone had changed, but she was the only one so far who it had definitely not been for the better. Instead of growing wiser, like the old saying went, she just grew cowardly and frightful.

Even though they said otherwise, everyone had their breaking point. There was always the chance her family would grow tired of her prattling and silly little freak-outs and just couldn’t take being around her any longer, like they used to when she was a teenager.

Maybe they’d come to regret her coming back in the first place.

The thought felt like a silver bullet through the heart, and haunted Clawdeen for the rest of the evening, all the way to when she went to bed, where it mocked her in her dreams that made her restless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'll be completely honest, I'm really not happy with how this chapter turned out. I feel like a lot of the events that occur are repetitive. I wanted to go over a lot more things, but after over 20 pages and 11k+ words, I decided to just end it at this for now and maybe save those for another chapter. So sorry if it's sort of hodge-podgey.


	3. Chapter 2: Guilt and The Guilty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Chapter contains some slightly graphic descriptions of body horror and mentions of violence and torture.

For the next few days, Clawdeen’s life was, thankfully, relatively uneventful.

She woke up, she ate food, she talked with her family, she talked with Draculaura, she cuddled with the pets, she went to bed. It was repetitive and simple, but Clawdeen had quickly began to find that she liked repetitive and simple as she became reacquainted with the family and the house. It was comforting, reassuring; it let her know that this was all really real, and not just some sort of long term dream.

Except the nightmares.

The nightmares did the opposite: they made sure she didn’t forget that what happened, had really happened. _Couldn’t_ forget that it had all happened.

Clawdeen didn’t tell anyone about them. She’d since long become numb to whatever frightening images and terrible lifelike scenarios that her fragile imagination created at her expense. Not that it made them easier to deal with or that they no longer bothered her, but she’d long been taught to push them aside and go on. She’d had way more on her mind to deal with than some stupid bad dream.

Until now, though. Now that she was out of DC and had nothing to do for the last week but lounge around the house, all that was on her mind was the bad dreams and the memories.

“Clawdeen?”

“Hmmm?” Clawdeen blinked. She tasted mint and felt the scratchy feeling of bristles on her tongue; in her thoughts, she realized, she had paused in brushing her teeth. She must’ve looked weird as hell, standing there, staring into the mirror with glazed eyes and her toothbrush jutting out of her mouth.

She grabbed her brush and pulled it out in order to spit her toothpaste into the sink. She wiped her mouth as she raised her head and looked back into the mirror, meeting Howleen’s gaze from where the younger wolf stood behind her.

“Sorry,” she apologized, “What were you saying?”

Howleen frowned, “I was saying if you wanted me to get you some water. I was about to go downstairs to grab a bottle and wondered if you wanted one, too.”

“Oh? O-Oh, yeah, thanks,” Clawdeen said.

She gave her sister a small half-smile. Howleen didn’t return it. Instead, she frowned and stared at her for a long time. Clawdeen shifted on her toes, uncomfortable by the look.

“What? D-Do I have something on my face?” she asked, touching her cheek, before she glimpsed back in the mirror. Howleen shook her head.

“No,” the younger wolf answered, “Just...you seem like you have a lot on your mind.”

Clawdeen scoffed, “Doesn’t everyone around here? I mean, there’s a lot we have to deal with.”

She turned away from the sink and patted Howleen’s arm. She said, “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m fine, okay?”

“I’m always going to worry about you, ‘Deen,” Howleen replied, “You’re my sister, it’s what I’m supposed to do.”

She stared up into Clawdeen’s eyes as she said it, and the amount of honesty and warmth in her sister’s butterscotch gaze was almost overwhelming. Clawdeen felt a tug in her chest, and for a moment, felt like she was actually about to cry.

There was a part of her that wondered if Howleen was beginning to suspect something about her having nightmares. She always remained a sleep the last few mornings, when Clawdeen would shoot straight up in bed, a scream smothered in her throat and cold sweat soaking into her fur. However, in the mornings, when she asked how she had slept, Clawdeen had noticed her gaze would linger on her for a few seconds when Clawdeen would just shrug or give an answer that didn’t indicate the horrifying visions that had plagued her just a few hours earlier. Howleen had yet to say anything that suggested she knew, though.

Before the auburn haired wolf could make any kind of response, though, Howleen nodded and turned away from her.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she said, opening the door and walking out.

Clawdeen nodded in spite of her back being turned, before she turned back to the mirror. The circles and lines under her eyes were so pronounced it looked like she had just been hit in the face. Sighing, she turned off the light and left the bathroom.

Crescent was waiting for her as she approached her bunk and pulled back the covers. She meowed and lay on her side to rub her cheek against Clawdeen’s hand as she slid in under the comforter and adjusted her position to get comfortable. Clawdeen smiled and scratched her chin.

“Here to keep the nightmares away, huh?” she asked in amusement. Crescent gave a purr of contentment and snuggled up against her side. With all the weight she gained, Clawdeen thought with a smirk, she looked like a flattened eggplant against the blankets.

As she settled back against her pillow and pulled the comforter up to her chin, fatigue immediately grabbed hold of her, and in only a few seconds Clawdeen felt her eyelids getting heavy. By the time Howleen came back up with the bottles of water in her hand, she was already fast asleep.

_She found herself standing in the middle of the street. The neighborhood on either side of her was deathly quiet; the windows in every house were pitch black, with not even the porch lights flicking on. No cars drove on the road. She couldn’t even hear the chirping of insects from the woods._

_Everything was cast in various shades of grey. Not quite due to darkness, though above her, the moon shown the only natural light as it sat as a perfect white circle against a sea of onyx. More appropriately, it seemed like everything had been stripped of color. Like she had just walked into a rough sketch or had been stripped of the cones of her eyes._

“ _Hello?” Clawdeen called out, confused as to how and why she ended up in the middle of the street, “Can anyone here me…?”_

_No response. Everything was dead silent. Not even the wind blew. It felt like the houses around her were staring down at her, their lifeless black eyes casting judgment upon her._

_She turned around to find she was standing in front of her house. The two-story seemed larger somehow, like it had grown in size for the sole purpose of looming over her, reminding her of just how small she was in the grand scheme of things._

_Not a sound came from within._

_Slowly, Clawdeen stepped onto the sidewalk and walked towards the front door. She turned the knob; it opened without any slight resistance._

“ _Hello? Mom? Dad?” Clawdeen called out as she stepped into the foyer. The house was just as quiet as the outside, save for the echoes of her footsteps on the wooden floor. All the furniture was covered in a blanket of shadows._

_Her feet seemed to move on their own as she led herself up the stairs and into her bedroom. It was just the way Clawdeen remembered it being right before her and Howleen went to bed- her bottom bunk made and her pajamas laid out on the side, her shoes neat and orderly under the bed like usual, while the top bunk, Howleen’s, was in disarray with the sheets and pillowcase all wrinkled and her stuffed animals tossed around._

_Everything was exactly the same, except there was something...off about the atmosphere. Something that made her hackles rise and set her on the edge._

_Suddenly, there was a small creak coming from the closet._

_Clawdeen whirled around and stumbled back, her instincts immediately on high alert. The closet seemed to open on its own, the door slowly turning on its hinges. Inside, she could see nothing but complete darkness, even with her night vision. It was like staring into the void of a black hole._

“ _Who’s there?” Clawdeen demanded, “What are you doing here?”_

“ _It’s not fair,” a familiar female voice spoke up, “Why did you get away so easy? Why do you get to have things work out for you?”_

_Slowly, their silhouette barely visible against the pitch black backdrop of the closet, a figure stepped forward._

“ _Why do I have to be the one to hurt?” the figure asked. Its voice trembled and cracked, like they were on the verge of crying, if they hadn’t been already, “What did I ever do to you to deserve such pain?”_

“ _A-A-Annabelle?” Clawdeen addressed. Alarm and fear bubbled up in her chest at hearing the unicorn’s voice after so long, “W-W-What are you doing here?”_

“ _It’s not fair,” Annabelle sobbed from the shadows, “I only wanted to help you. I wanted to help **all** of you. I couldn’t take the pain anymore, I just wanted it all to end. And you betrayed me! You gave me to him, to them to hurt me more...” _

_She broke off into pathetic little blubbers that rammed into Clawdeen’s chest. The werewolf swallowed, a lump of guilt in her throat._

“ _Annabelle, I’m so sorry,” she said, “I-I-I was scared, I-I didn’t know what to do, everyone was so angry a-and I was afraid that Aran w-was going to punish me for it somehow-”_

“ _So you let me get hurt instead. You sold me out,” Annabelle suddenly spat venomously, any previous traces of sadness gone from her voice._

_Clawdeen paused. She looked down, ashamed. “I-I’m sorry...I-I had no idea that...I’m so sorry...”_

_Annabelle hissed, “You knew how dangerous they were. You **knew** the kinds of sick things they were capable of. But you still handed me over to them. **You** let them hurt me, Clawdeen. You let them starve me, rape me, torture me. You let them take me and break me and leave me on the side of the road to die. _

“ _ **You** let them do that to me,” she finished, “My coma and my scars are because of you. This is all **your** fault.” _

_She came forward and stepped out of the doorframe. Unconsciously, Clawdeen took another step back, suddenly afraid of the cloaked ghoul before her._

“ _It should’ve been you,” Annabelle said._

“ _Annabelle, p-please,” Clawdeen begged, “I-I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, b-but I’m sorry! I’m so sorry for everything-”_

“ _IT SHOULD’VE BEEN YOU!” Annabelle screamed._

_Her horn suddenly lit up bright green and illuminated the room. Clawdeen raised her hands up in front of her face, the unexpected radiance painful to her eyes after becoming adjusted to the darkness. She stepped backward and tripped over something left on the floor- probably one of Howleen’s shoes- which caused her to stumble onto her rear; Clawdeen cried out in surprise and pain as she landed hard on her tailbone._

_She looked up, now able to see Annabelle’s features clearly from the magic radiating off the unicorn’s horn._

_Her eyes widened at the horrific sight that greeted her. Annabelle stood over her, staring down at her with a manic expression that chilled Clawdeen’s blood; her bright blue eyes were blackened and red, the skin of her lids dark purple and swollen, but her irises seemed to glow as they stood out against her blood sclera and felt like they pierced right through Clawdeen’s soul._

_Her face was nearly black with the number of bruises that decorated her cheeks, lips, and chin, while numerous knots jutted out of her forehead like tumors. She still wore the top and skirt that Clawdeen had lent to her the day that she assaulted Lucius Deathschain, but now they were drenched in blood. Annabelle’s bright blue hair hung around her in a feral manner, the delicate locks matted with blood and filth and hanging in stringy mats around her shoulders and face like cobwebs. Her left hoof was shattered and bent at an unnatural angle, while fresh handprints wrapped around her neck like a choker of light purple tulle._

_Despite all these injuries, however, Annabelle was smiling. It was a cold, bloodthirsty one, her bloody and split lips stretched ear to ear to show off cracked and bloody teeth. It made Clawdeen’s stomach churn with fear. Annabelle looked more like a skinwalker about to devour her prey right now than a unicorn._

“ _It should’ve been you,” Annabelle repeated; her tone this time was airy and sweet, as if she were making a silly joke or just casually talking about the weather. Now, though, it made Clawdeen’s skin crawl with fear, “You should’ve been the one they kept in the basement. You should’ve been the one to be given to the Deathschains as their new whore.”_

“ _Annabelle-”_

“ _They all fucked me that night, did you know that, Clawdeen?” she teased, “They handcuffed me to this pole near the boiler in the basement and all took turns fucking me, one right after the other. Then Grady and James cut me with their knives and Bryce used his belt to whip me until my back bled. Did you know that? Does it get you all soft and wet inside?”_

“ _Stop,” Clawdeen ordered through gritted teeth. She felt sick._

_Annabelle kept going, “You should’ve seen how the Deathschain brothers were, though. Lucius got his revenge by burning me between my legs. He cut me up all nice and good and his brothers fucked every one of my holes until they bled and they made me stand naked while Eric and all them masturbated before they used a cattle prod to-”_

“ _STOP!” Clawdeen screamed, covering her ears with her hands, “Stop, I don’t want to hear this! I don’t want to know!”_

_Annabelle actually giggled at this. She grabbed Clawdeen’s hands and yanked them away from her ears. Clawdeen tried to struggle to get them free, but for as petite as she was, Annabelle’s grip was surprisingly strong._

“ _Don’t you want to play with me, too?” she asked, “Don’t you want to feel how they touched me? Don’t you want to see what you allowed to happen?”_

_Her hands were like iron shackles around Clawdeen’s wrists as she forced her hands forward. Clawdeen sobbed and tried in vain to pull free as Annabelle placed her hands against her breasts. She forced to move up and down; under her palms, Clawdeen could feel her nipples harden through her shirt._

“ _Annabelle, please stop! Stop, I don’t want to do this!” Clawdeen pleaded through her tears, “Stop, I don’t- AGH!”_

_She screamed again, this time in surprise, as Annabelle suddenly pounced on her. She straddled Clawdeen’s lap and held herself aloft with her hands. Clawdeen looked up at her in fear; Annabelle continued to smile, her lifeless eyes and bloody teeth making her look like a true boogeyman._

“ _You don’t want to play with me?” she questioned, “Fine! Then I’ll play with YOU! Make you feel everything I had to feel!”_

_Clawdeen cried out and squirmed as Annabelle tore at her top and began to roughly fondle her, painfully squeezing her breasts. She tried to bat the unicorn’s hands away, but she might as well have been trying to bat away a solid iron structure that had been placed on her chest._

“ _Nooo...” she wept as she felt Annabelle slip her hand between her legs and roughly touch her there. She pinched and prodded and rubbed._

“ _Doesn’t it feel good?” Annabelle cooed in mockery, “You know you want it.”_

_Her voice changed at this, becoming deeper and more masculine in pitch. Still on top of Clawdeen, her whole figure shifted and morphed, before Clawdeen found herself face to face with Grady._

“ _You know you want it,” he growled, before he leaned down. Clawdeen bawled and turned her face away as he tried to kiss her, only to let out a cry of protest as she felt him lick her cheek and drag his tongue over her mouth._

“ _No-o-o-o, stop! Get off me, stop!” she tried to kick and pull herself free, but he pinned her wrists above her head._

“ _You know you want it,” Grady repeated, this time melting into Aran. Clawdeen sobbed as he continued to fondle her, with his hands caressing her curves and attempting to draw a response from her._

“ _You know you want it.” Aran turned into Striggy, who laughed and cackled madly as he tore open the rest of Clawdeen’s clothes. He dove down and managed to get her in a forcible kiss; Clawdeen let out a muffled scream of “Mmmmph!” as he forced her mouth open._

_She ripped her face away and flailed madly as he pressed fake tender kisses along her neck and collarbone._

“ _STOP!” she shouted, “Stop, get off me! GET OFF ME! STOP! STOP! STOP-!”_

“Clawdeen!”

She felt the ground under her give way and experienced a brief moment of falling, before she hit it again. This time, it was hard and stiff under her. Clawdeen let out an exclamation of pain as her shoulder slammed against the solid flooring, which sent waves of pain all down her left arm.

Clawdeen lay sprawled out on the floor, panting desperately. She glanced around the room, her heart racing with panic as she saw everything was dark, just like her dream, until her eyes landed on a pair staring at her from above.

Unlike Annabelle’s cold pastel blue gaze, however, these eyes were a warm, albeit now scared, orange-tinted yellow color. Howleen was bent over as she regarded Clawdeen with a panicked expression. Her hands were out in front of her. Her hair was splayed wildly about her in its natural afro like she’d been electrocuted.

“I-It’s okay,” she said, “It was only a bad dream.”

Clawdeen stared at her like she had grown a third eyeball in the middle of her forehead. She took another glance around the room, confused. She went stiff as a board as her gaze went towards the closet.

It was closed, though. She heard no movement from inside, nor smelled anyone else besides Howleen’s scent. There was no indication of Annabelle anywhere; nor that of Aran, Grady, or Striggy.

“It was...” she squeaked out, “I-It was...”

Howleen’s eyes turned soft. She slowly knelt down to Clawdeen’s level and put her hands on her shoulders, gently addressing her like she was a child.

“It was only a nightmare,” she said, “You’re safe. Whatever was going on, it wasn’t real and it’s over now. It’s okay...”

It broke her heart to see Clawdeen look so scared. She couldn’t remember a time she had ever seen such an expression on her sister’s face. Clawdeen looked like a spooked animal in headlights, her eyes nearly bulging out of her head as she gave Howleen like she wasn’t sure whether or not to trust her; like she suspected the younger ghoul to pull the rug out from under her at any second.

Howleen offered her hand and repeated, “It’s okay. It was only a bad dream. I’m here for you.”

Shame burned deep in Clawdeen like a hot coal. If her sister had any suspicion that there was something more going on when she slept, now it was confirmed for sure. She must’ve been yelling out in her sleep- her throat felt raw and dry- or thrashing hard enough that the sounds woke Howleen up.

Tears filled her eyes. She looked down at her lap, unable to find the will to keep looking Howleen in the eye.

“Come on, Clawdeen,” Howleen continued gently, “Let’s go back to bed.”

There was a knock at the door. Clawdeen turned sharply towards it, her heart thumping in her chest as her sleep-addled mind immediately dreamt up of a sinister scenario of some mysterious person on the other side.

“ _Leena? Deen?”_ Clawrk tiredly called from the other end, “ _Is everything all right in there?”_

Howleen turned away from Clawdeen for a moment to exclaim, “Yeah, we’re all right! Just something fell, is all.”

Clawrk asked, “ _Do you need me to come in?”_

Clawdeen stiffened. _No,_ she thought desperately, _Don’t. Don’t see me like this._

To her great relief, Howleen replied, “No, we’re fine. Thanks anyway, Dad.”

“ _Okay,”_ Clawrk answered, “ _Well, goodnight girls. If you need anything, you know your mom and I will be right down the hall. Love you.”_

“We will,” Howleen responded, “I love you, Dad.”

“L-L-Love you, Dad,” Clawdeen replied sheepishly, still somewhat out of sorts.

As Clawrk walked away, Howleen turned back to her. Clawdeen sat on the floor, looking miserable and embarrassed. From her bed, Crescent stood up and was watching her with worry; she looked up at Howleen at one point and meowed at her like _What happened?_ Inside her cage, Cushion scurried around, seemingly also having sensed the tension in the atmosphere.

Slowly, Howleen walked towards Clawdeen. Clawdeen wouldn’t look at her, preferring to keep her gaze glued to the ground.

“Clawdeen?”

She didn’t receive an answer. Clawdeen kept staring at the ground like she expected a hole to open up in front of her. However, Howleen could see her lip quivering violently. Her eyes were glossy with tears. In her mind, Clawdeen felt herself burn with humiliation.

Couldn’t even save herself in her own fucking dreams. She was truly a pitiful excuse for a wolf.

Unable to take it, she finally closed her eyes and buried her face in her hands as she began to cry. Short, sharp mewls of despair escaped her.

She could hear the faint brushing of Howleen’s socked feet on the carpet, before she felt the latter’s arms be thrown over her and herself be pulled into her little sister’s embrace. She collapsed against her chest as Howleen held her gently.

“It’s okay,” Howleen assured her softly as she wept, “It was only a bad dream. They can’t hurt you anymore.”

Moving steadily, she helped Clawdeen to her feet and guided her back over to her bed. Clawdeen collapsed onto the bed and immediately curled into a ball under the covers. She brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, before burying her face against them to muffle her sobs as she continued to weep into her pillow.

She felt Howleen adjust the blankets around her to somewhat tuck her in. To her surprise, however, she then felt the bed dip behind her and sink into the bed. She looked over her shoulder to see Howleen sliding into the bed with her.

Howleen lay next to her and smiled at her puzzled expression.

“Just like we used to do when we were pups,” she explained, “You always came into my bed to comfort me whenever it was thunderstorming out and I was scared. Now it’s my turn.”

Clawdeen swallowed hard and turned away from her. The shame burned deep within her; here she was as a grown woman, needing to be comforted by her little sister from a bad dream like a gradeschooler that was barely out of diapers.

She started to cry again. Her hand clenched hard into her pillow as Clawdeen pressed her face against the cover and wept into the fabric. She felt Howleen’s arms go around her and her chest press against her back as the smaller tan wolf held her. They lay like that for the rest of the night, Howleen gently trying to shush her sister and comfort her as Clawdeen cried herself back to sleep.

Cushion and Crescent sat in silence as they watched the scene with their owners. They both wore sad expressions on their furry faces, neither able to understand the depths of the situation, only knowing that the ghouls were upset and, try as they might, there was nothing they could at the moment to remedy the situation.

* * *

Clawdeen stood at the sink, brushing her teeth as she numbly stared into the mirror. Her eyes were glazed over with that semi-tiredness that one has when they have been woken up before they are ready to do so, and her hair sprung wildly in all directions in a bad case of bedhead. She looked like absolute shit.

She felt like shit, too. After Howleen had finally managed to get her to calm down and stop crying, her resumed sleep was not much better. Instead of more nightmares, her flare-ups had been particularly awful, and she was constantly getting woken up by episodes of abdominal pain that kept her up for hours at a time. It was almost calculated, the timing of them- just as it felt that she was falling back to sleep, she’d be woken up by a sharp pain that felt like someone was stabbing her in the stomach.

Howleen was already up and had since left her bed when Clawdeen finally awoke that morning, groggy and feeling like she’d been sleeping for a thousand years. Her scent was a small comfort to Clawdeen as she laid in bed for a few more minutes, before she finally decided to drag herself out and get dressed.

It was a choice Clawdeen was already beginning to regret. It took her longer than usual to pick out a pair of clothes- when she was a teenager, she’d be able to come up with an outfit in a few minutes tops and would already have it laid out the night before- and the mere thought of showering and having to shampoo her hair somehow made her more tired.

Yet, as she changed out of her pajamas and pulled on her clothes and put on deodorant, she felt a tad disgusting; she swore she could feel and smell the sweat that had dried into her fur from the previous night and she could still feel a sticky spot on her cheek where she had drooled. She brushed her hair half-heartedly so that it looked presentable, but she didn’t bother to put into a particular style or put her own personal twist on it like she usually did.

She stood and looked into the mirror at herself. She looked so plain and forgettable. It was such a far cry from someone like her teenage self, who used to pride herself on the amount of effort she put into her appearance and making sure she stood out from the crowd in her unique way.

“ _Clawdeen,”_ Harriet called from the stairs, “ _Could you come here, please? We need to talk to you.”_

“I’ll be out in a second,” Clawdeen called over her shoulder. She looked back into the mirror.

A seed of resentment bloomed in her the longer she stared into the mirror. She hated seeing the person staring back at her. She thought about her dream from the night before, of Annabelle’s beaten, bloody face.

If her family knew about how she had betrayed someone who should’ve been her friend, how would they react? To know their daughter had sunk so low and played so dirty?

Clawdeen sighed. She couldn’t even bring herself to feel guilt or shame or sadness at this point. Right now, she just felt...defeated.

She turned away from the mirror and left the bathroom to head downstairs. Below, she could hear her parents talking, while a third unknown voice chimed in. As she came down from the last step, Clawdeen looked towards the kitchen. Through the entrance to the dining room, she saw her mom and dad seated at the dining room table, talking to a cryptid in a business suit who sat across from them.

Harriet and Clawrk looked up as they heard her approach. Clawrk stood up and pulled out a chair for her.

“Morning, baby,” he said, “How are you doing?”

“I could be better,” Clawdeen admitted. She bent down to give Harriet and him a hug, before she looked over at the guest at the table.

He was a cryptid who resembled that of a feathered dinosaur; he had a long lizard-like face that was green in color and bright yellow snake-slit eyes, while his hands had three fingers and a thumb-like appendage that all tapered off in sharp claws. Dark red and harlequin green feathers covered him from the top of his head and ran down his neck into the collar of his shirt and jutted out from the sleeves of his well cut navy blue suit. Behind him, Clawdeen could see a plumed tail swishing back and forth from the opening in his chair. He wore a custom-made pair of shoes that conformed to the shape of his chicken-like feet.

Clawrk gestured to him. “Clawdeen, this is Archibald Opteryx,” he explained, “He’s a lawyer who will be helping us.”

“Please, call me Archie,” the dinosaur said as he stood up, “Nobody calls me Archibald except my partner and my parents, and that’s usually when they’re mad at me.”

His smile was full of sharp, pointy teeth as he nodded at Clawdeen and held his hand out to her. He greeted, “It’s nice to meet you, Clawdeen.”

Clawdeen didn’t take his hand at first. She stood there, staring at him for a few seconds as Clawrk’s introduction rang in her head.

A lawyer.

If he was here, that meant he was here for only one thing.

_The trial._

_Aran._

Right away, Clawdeen could feel dread start to bubble up in her.

She knew sooner or later this day was going to come. That didn’t make it any easier to actually have to sit down and talk about it.

Finally, she slowly reached out and shook Archie’s hand. She replied, “It...i-it’s nice to meet you, too.

“What’s...what’s going on?” she asked, even though she already knew what this was about.

Archie gestured to the chair that Clawrk had pulled out. “Please, sit down. We have a lot to discuss.”

“It’s okay, honey,” Harriet said as she squeezed Clawdeen’s hand, “He’s a friend of Vlad’s. He’s going to help us.”

Clawdeen wanted to say that wasn’t the reason why she was hesitant, but she obeyed and took a seat to the left of Clawrk.

“Well, Clawdeen, I’m going to guess you already know why I’m here?” Archie asked, reaching beside him to grab the briefcase that rested beside his chair.

Clawdeen shrugged, “You’re...you’re involved in-i-in the trial.”

Archie nodded, “That’s right. Specifically, I’m going to be representing you as part of the prosecution. Me and a bunch of other lawyers are all going to be representing you girls who were forced into that trafficking ring.”

He put his hands together. “And believe me, when I say, that we are going to do whatever we can to put those sorry bastards you away for good.”

Clawdeen gave him an unsure look. He just nodded, as if to guarantee that he meant what he said.

“So...so what does that all entail?” Harriet spoke up, “Like, where do we go from here?”

“Perhaps, I should start by covering all the things we know for sure,” Archie said.

He undid the clasps to his briefcase and opened it, before he started pulling out various documents and setting them in front of them. The three wolves skimmed over the tops of the various stapled packs laid out on the table. Clawdeen glanced over one that looked like one of the forms Clawdia had to fill out for registration when she started college. She winced as she caught sight of such phrases like ‘ _scarring evident of previous anal fissures’_ and ‘ _extensive bruising of cervix’._

Archie pulled out a little black booklet from his case and opened it in front of him, slowly flipping through the pages.

“Aran Hoovestein was arrested October seventeenth, along with three other men in Bathesda near an old farmhouse that was found to belong to one of the other men involved- a vampire by the name of Bryce Polidori,” he explained, reading off his notes, “They’re currently being held without bail until the trial, which is set to begin November twentieth.” 

Without even thinking about it, Clawdeen breathed a sigh of relief. That was finally some good news; at least she could relax a little, knowing that Aran was going to be where someone could keep an eye on him.

Clawrk frowned and crossed his arms. “Must be facing quite a felony if they don’t even get bail?” he asked, his voice bitter. 

Archie nodded, looking down at what he’d written, “They’re all being charged with multiple felony counts of sex trafficking and rape. Hoovestein, in particular, is being charged with a Class one felony of trafficking, three felony counts of rape and attempted rape, assault in the second degree, first degree pimping and pandering, and first degree kidnapping. He’s also being charged with accessory to kidnapping and trafficking- based on the other girls from his accomplices he helped hide- and third degree promotion of travel for prostitution.” 

He tossed the book back into his case and looked up at Clawdeen and her parents. He put his elbows on the table and laced his hands together. 

“To put it crudely, him and his buddies are in some deep shit,” Archie said, “If found guilty of even just one of these felonies, they’re all facing going away for life.” 

“Good,” Clawrk snarled, “They’re all fucking lucky if they don’t all get the fucking injection after everything they done. Goddamned bastard doesn’t deserve to even breathe.” 

Clawdeen slowly turned her head to look up at him, nervous. Clawrk was baring his teeth in a deep growl, while his whole body was stiff. His hands, which were resting on the table, balled tightly into fists; Clawdeen could even see the veins bulging out from under them. His eyes were bright agate with rage and bloodlust. 

She didn’t think she had ever seen her father so angry before. Clawdeen shied away from him at this, slightly scared by his appearance. 

Harriet looked towards her husband. Her brows furrowed in worry at his worked up appearance. She slid her hand over his fist, trying to get him to relax. 

Archie watched them, his eyes looking over each of them sympathy as he saw their expressions. 

“Believe me, if I had it my way, I’d ask for the judge to bring back the death penalty temporarily just for this case,” he said, “Unfortunately, our justice system isn’t known to be the more competent or fair, so we have to fight extra hard for what we can.

“Anyway,” he added, “The biggest thing I want talk about today is Clawdeen’s role when the trial commences. Being that she was one of the girls found at the scene when the raid occurred, she’s one of the most important people in this case.” 

He rested his chin on his hands and took a look at his briefcase, contemplating his next words briefly, before they looked back up at the three of them. 

“I don’t think this should complicate our case too much,” he prefaced, “But we have run into a few...difficulties with gathering our witnesses.” 

He sighed, “We were hoping to have all the girls found at the farmhouse, Clawdeen included, be present for the trial. However, due to certain circumstances, that can’t be so. One girl discharged herself from the hospital before anyone could get any information on her or her real name and we haven’t been able to track her down.” 

_ Shelby,  _ Clawdeen thought. She felt a small pang in her chest at the thought of the sea monster. 

“Another girl, Crescencia Cabrera, was a South American immigrant who was transported illegally into the country and has since been deported back to her home country,” Archie continued, “We haven’t been able to negotiate with Immigrations Customs to grant her a temporary visa, while another girl, Lola Somem, has refused to testify.

“However, luckily, we have three other girls who have agreed to work with us and provide witness testimony,” he said, a bit more hopeful, “And luckily for us, all three of them were separately aligned with a separate guy, all of which were arrested at the scene, so they help strengthen our case against each of them.” 

Clawdeen perked up at that. She asked, “The other three? Y-You mean, C-Callida and all them?” 

Archie gave her a look of surprise at the mention of the names. A flicker of understanding seemed to pass in his scaly features, before he gave her a small nod. 

“Why, yes,” he answered, “Callida Flame...Flame...” 

He flipped through notepad to his page, and announced, “Callida Flameos, Mavis Swiftwing, and Eilidh Uaine. You know these girls, I presume?” 

“Well, yeah,” Clawdeen replied, “We were...They belonged to Grady and the others.” 

She heard her mom make a clicking noise at her usage of the word ‘belong’ but Clawdeen hardly noticed- such language had become normal for her. Archie gave no reaction and just nodded in understanding. 

“Right,” he said, “I know as much; they’ve all agreed to take the stand against their former pimps. Miss Flameos was the sole girl under the control of her pimp, and the other two should be able to provide enough testimony even if their... _partners_ have decided to back out.” 

His gaze slid back up to hers. “Of course,” Archie added, “The men who held them hostage also had multiple girls alongside them, whereas for Callida, she was the only girl to her pimp, which means that she’s the only one- unless some other girls come out of the woodwork and also speak up about being survivors to him- that can really give any insight as to what he was doing during his time in the city.” 

Clawdeen nodded; she didn’t really understand where he was going with this, but based on the small little worm of dread that she could feel begin to creep its way around her belly, something told her it wasn’t good.

“Where are you going with this?” Clawrk asked, confused. 

Archie sighed. He looked at each of them, like he was trying to let them see that what he was about to say was indeed serious and he needed them at their full attention. The feeling of dread in Clawdeen’s stomach grew. She put a hand to abdomen, momentarily thinking she might end up being sick. 

“Clawdeen is the lone girl we can directly connect to Hoovestein,” Archie explained, “So that means our best maneuver to make sure they throw away the key for him is to have her testify on the stand.” 

Clawdeen froze. It suddenly felt like the room around her dropped to absolute zero.

“Does...d-d-does that mean I’ll have to g-go back to DC?” she asked; she barely recognized her own voice, “T-To him?” 

Clawrk and Harriet looked at her. The trepidation was clear on her face, from the pallor of her skin to the way her eyes had become the size of dollar coins. Clawrk put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed, trying to keep her grounded. 

Archie noticed the frightened look as well and regarded her a sympathetic expression. He nodded solemnly. 

“If you choose to do so, yes,” he sighed, “Which is the biggest issue I wanted to talk to you all about: Clawdeen’s role in the trial.” 

He ran a clawed hand through the red feathers that made up his ‘hair’ and folded his hands together in front of him. 

“One one hand, if you agree to it,” he told Clawdeen, “You’ll be the star witness for Hoovestein. With you telling the jury of all the things he did to you, they’re bound to see just how dangerous he is and be more likely to be persuaded to sentencing him to life. You’ll also be able to back up the other girls’ testimony, and them for yours, so they’ll be more solidified and the defense might be less able to try and poke holes in it.” 

His mouth tugged down in a grim frown, and he regarded her, Harriet, and Clawrk with a stern gaze. 

“The other question that lingers, though,” he said to Clark and Harriet, “Is if you’re willing to risk your daughter possibly being re-traumatized over having to spend time sitting in the same room with the man who has abused her all these years, for weeks, if not months?” 

Clawrk and Harriet shared a look, neither looking like they were very enthusiastic about the idea. They turned to Clawdeen. She was looking at the patterns in the table now, still looking shaken and pale. Clawrk turned back to Archie. 

“What kind of trouble are we looking at?” he asked. 

“Quite a lot,” Archie answered, “I’ve had to work quite a few sexual abuse cases. The defense is absolutely merciless in them. They will stoop to any low and do whatever trick, no matter how low, they can to ease up on their clients.

“I can already tell you what they’ll probably ask Clawdeen if she agrees,” he continued rubbing his chin, “No matter what Hoovestein put her through, they will look for something to try and frame it so that in one sense or another, it’s her fault.” 

He made a face, like he was disgusted with just talking about it. “They’ll likely ask her about any previous sexual partners she’s had, if she was known to be a flirt in school. They’ll badger you and her about the way she dressed, if she likes to wear clothes that could be considered ‘sexy’. If she had a certain ‘reputation’ among the boys in the neighborhood.” 

Clawdeen shook her head in disbelief. She looked between Archie and her parents, desperate. 

“T-T-That wouldn’t be true, though!” she exclaimed, “I’ve never even been in a relationship, I-I was still a virgin when Gem and Striggy picked me up!” 

“I believe you. And you know what? Even if you were known to be the town slut and had a new guy in your bed every night, it _still_ wouldn’t at all justify the things you’ve gone through,” Archie explained, “But like I said, the defense likes to play dirty in these situations. They know they can’t pull some bullshit like ‘my client only raped somebody in self-defense’ or ‘it was an accident’ so their best option is to somehow find a way to blame the victim.” 

He shook his head, “Believe me, I’ve seen cases where even children have been accused of ‘seducing’ their abuser, because of the way they got out of the bath or got dressed or some bullshit like that.” 

“Even if she was kidnapped?” Harriet questioned, horrified, “Clawdeen was drugged, she was tricked! How could they possibly justify that?!” 

Archie opened his mouth to answer, but Clawdeen beat him to it. 

“They’ll ask why I never left,” she muttered. 

They all looked towards her. She raised her head to give Archie one of distress. 

“T-They’ll try and ask why I stayed, right?” she asked, “They tell the jury h-how me and them never left, e-even though we got to work by ourselves without any supervision and go home by ourselves, t-then they’ll wonder why we didn’t try to leave.” 

She felt herself begin to shake, “B-But we all...we thought there were guys watching us. T-That’s why, i-it wasn’t like I wanted to stay? Aran, though, Aran...h-he said if I left...she said if I ever left, he’d kill me...” 

Even after her and the ghouls talked about it and acknowledged the mind games, Clawdeen couldn’t help but still feel a bit of self-loathing at herself for falling for the manipulation. It seemed so far-fetched in hindsight, to think that there were random guys standing at the corners or waiting in cars for the sole sake of making sure they didn’t run off. 

After having to be put through the wrath of Aran’s hands and his stun gun, though, she was willing to believe anything he said, if it meant being spared from the world of hurt for one night. 

Clawrk turned in his seat and pulled her to his chest. Clawdeen crumbled against him, trembling like she was cold. 

“Shhh,” he said softly into her hair, “It’s not your fault.” 

Harriet reached over his shoulder and wrapped the two of them in her own embrace, her chest pressing up against Clawrk’s back and shoulder as her hands settled on Clawdeen’s sides. Archie watched them silently, letting them take a minute to calm down. 

He looked down and sighed. “Unfortunately...yes, those are the type of questions they will probably ask. These lawyers who take up these scumbags know no bounds. Guys like Hoovestein are rich, too, so they make sure to hire the ones who particularly know how to find the spot to twist their knife in.” 

He turned his gaze back to Harriet and Clawrk and explained, “Which is why I’m telling you to really consider how you want to move forward with all this. I’m not trying to discourage Clawdeen from taking the stand if she really wants to. But I know these kinds of things can be damaging to survivors, having to face their abusers again, especially in high pressure situations like this.” 

Harriet nodded in understanding. She bit her lip as she thought of something, before her eyes flashed to him. 

“Theoretically, what would happen if she decides not to? If she doesn’t go through with testifying,” she clarified. 

Archie sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. He looked down at the papers on the table for a second as he contemplated the possible scenarios, before he answered. 

“If Clawdeen chooses to back out, I would say we still have a pretty strong case,” he said, “The girls Clawdeen knows that are going be at the trial can still provide adequate testimony against Hoovestein’s presence in the ring, and that should still give us some leverage. Plus, his involvement with the Clawdeen’s kidnapping notwithstanding, he’s still looking at a myriad of charges like illegal possession of a firearm, drug trafficking, that kind of stuff.” 

“...But?” Clawrk asked. 

Clawdeen lifted her head from his chest to watch Archie, equally curious- and simultaneously fearing- the answer he’d give. 

Archie rubbed his neck. “ _But_ ,” he said heavily, “Without her as a star witness, Hoovestein...has a better chance of not getting sentenced. Or, let me rephrase that: Not getting sentenced as harsh. The other charges can get reduced to misdemeanors; the other girls have already stated he never raped any of them, and the semen samples from Clawdeen’s rape kit don’t match his DNA. He’ll still get sentenced, but without Clawdeen being present, that leaves plenty of room for his lawyers to still spin it in his favor.” 

Clawrk frowned, “Are none of the other guys taking a plea deal? Can’t they use that to ran the others out or something?” 

He received a shake from the dinosaur cryptid’s head. Archie answered, “The judge isn’t accepting any plea deals. And none of them are willing to be the rat, anyway. With this kind of organized crime, especially when you’re in the pen, being the one to talk to the cops puts a target on your back. They’re all only in to save their own asses as best as they can.” 

Clawrk looked down at Clawdeen. She’d been quiet for the longest time. She was staring off into the distance, like she had long since stopped paying attention to what the attorney was telling her. 

“’Deen?” he addressed, shaking her a little, “Honey?” 

Clawdeen took a deep breath. As she exhaled, it came out all shaky and raggedy, like she was standing at the top of the coldest mountain with a shortage of oxygen. 

She was deep in her thoughts as she listened to everything Archie was saying. None of his words were reassuring. Each scenario sounded just as horrible as the other. 

If she testified, she’d be forced to see Aran again. She’d have to sit in the courtroom with him, only a few feet away. Forced to listen as Archie and a bunch of random guys recounted what she went through , in front of dozens of strangers. Her abuse, her pain, her trauma- spoken out to an entire room of people like a sermon being preached. Her most shameful secrets and most humiliating memories, brought to the surface. 

She thought of Archie’s comment about ‘re-traumatization’, as he had described it; she imagined being there in the courtroom, sitting at the witness stand, thousands of eyes staring back at her, accusing her, judging her without even knowing her, while some other man- a guy on Aran’s side, fighting for _his_ freedom, as if it had been stolen from him like he had stolen Clawdeen’s- questioned her and portrayed her as just some slimy whore who was out of control. 

What if it made the news? Her picture would be plastered all over the internet for the world to read about. Her name would be dragged through the mud. She’d be ruined; everyone would know her, judge her and present it as pity, the only ‘fame’ she’d make for herself would be that of having to be another unfortunate story that someone would probably adapt into a crappy made-for-TV movie someday. 

And all the while, she’d be only a mere few feet apart from Aran. She could already feel the way she knew he’d stare at her, those bright blue eyes piercing right through her like a laser. Mentally goading her, trying to force her to look at him so he could silently remind her of what little power she had. That she was yet to be rid of him, and likely never would. 

If she didn’t get up on the stand, though, then Archie said there was a chance that Aran’s conviction could fall apart right in their hands. But who was to say that even if Clawdeen _did_ cooperate, that it would still work? 

What if she said something and the jury took it the wrong way? Then she’d mess up her chance by her own stupid fumbling. Maybe she’d say something that would somehow make it seem like Aran was innocent in all of it, and he wouldn’t see a day in prison. The whole case could come undone by her making some silly comment or not properly articulating herself. 

It seemed like a lose-lose scenario either way. 

Even if she wanted to, the thought of seeing Aran again and having to sit with him for the duration of this trial, knowing that his eyes could be on her the entire time, made her weak in the knees. For a second if she felt like fainting. 

No. 

She wouldn’t do it. 

She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t face Aran again. 

She’d sooner slit her own wrists than see him again and let him know that he could still hurt her. 

“No,” Clawdeen spoke up weakly. 

She lifted her head from Clawrk’s chest and pulled away. Him and her mother and Archie watched her, patiently awaiting her answer. 

“N-No, I-I can’t do it,” she confessed, looking at her parents, “I-I can’t see him again. H-He’ll try and hurt me. Please don’t make me do it, d-d-don’t make me go back there, p-please...” 

She trailed off and closed her mouth, unable to smother the little whimper that escaped her. She bent her head, not wanting them to see she was on the edge of tears. 

Clawrk and Harriet both looked at her with looks of complete devastation. Harriet looked like she was about to also start crying. Clawrk pulled her into his side and rubbed her arm with his hand. Archie looked between them, wearing his own commiserating expression. He remained silent, allowing the family to gather themselves and their thoughts.

Finally, Clawrk took a deep breath and reached out to take Clawdeen’s hand. He pulled his opposite arm out from around Harriet’s back so that he could rest Clawdeen’s between both of his hands. Clawdeen could feel the rough callouses on his palms from his years of labor. 

“Okay, Deenie,” he said softly, “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” 

Archie nodded, “That’s right. Our biggest priority is you and making sure you get the help you need.” 

He reached out and put his hand out in front of her. Clawdeen glanced down at it, before she turned back to him. It seemed like a friendly gesture, like he was wanting to comfort her, but he didn’t want to touch her in case she wasn’t comfortable with it. 

Meeting her eyes, Archie smiled at her. He had a bit of a goofy smile. It reminded her of the way Rocks smiled- that large lopsided grin that was always bigger at one side, like they always had a joke waiting to be told. 

“I promise you, you _will_ get your justice,” he told her, “Me and my team won’t rest until every one of those sons of bitches who hurt you and those other girls for all those years are rotting away in a cell where they belong.” 

_ You can’t promise that,  _ Clawdeen thought, but kept her mouth shut. Instead, hesitantly she asked, “M-Mavis and Callida, a-and Eilidh...y-you said they’re going to be at the trial too?” 

Archie nodded, “We’re currently helping their families to find living arrangements for the duration of the trial. That way, they can be present there without having to stay in the city that kept them prisoner. We’re also doing it as a means for their personal safety.” 

Clawdeen bit her lip. She contemplated the next question she had, but held back. She thought back to her nightmare and the things the imaginary Annabelle had said. If she voiced the words and the guilt was written all over her face, she didn’t tink she could bare to see her parents’ reaction to the horrible act she had committed. 

The curiosity was too much for her, though, so she finally told Archie, “T-T-There’s another girl t-that could maybe help. She was the that...that the Deathschains  had hurt. Eponine Mareyweather?” 

Archie paused. He furrowed his brows, “Do...do you have more information about that case?” 

Clawdeen paused. She looked at her parents. They watched her, interested in what she had to say; she squirmed in her seat, uncomfortable with their eyes on her. She was already wishing she had kept her mouth shut. 

“Y-Y-Yeah,” she finally confessed, “She...she was with us. B-Before the Deathschains took her. Aran and them were...they were watching her while her pimp was in jail or something.” 

She  pulled her hand out of Clawrk’s hold and pressed her palms together, sliding them down so they rested between her knees. They didn’t look like her hands, she thought. Her wrist bones and knuckles jutted out like they were too big for her skin; they looked like old witch’s hands. 

“S-She was staying with Grady and them,” Clawdeen continued, “And then...t-then Aran took care of her. We used to go to...to the Deathschains every year. I don’t know w-what them and Aran and the other guys would talk about, but they- the Deathschains- they...they liked to...spend time with us...” 

Her face flushed bright red at saying it with her parents in the room. Behind her, Clawrk let out a low growl of disgust, while Harriet muttered a small “Oh, god...” under her breath. Clawdeen didn’t look at them. 

She turned back to Archie. He had grabbed a pad of paper from his briefcase and  a pen and was writing down notes on it. 

“Eponine...Mareyweather...” he repeated to himself as he spelled out her name. He glanced up at Clawdeen, nodding for her to continue. 

Clawdeen swallowed hard. “T-The time she was with us, there...she...she bit one of them and...hurt him and...tried to escape. Aran and them caught her and p-punished her for it.” 

She felt a wave of nausea come over her at the memory of Annabelle in her dream, all bloodied and bruised and looking like fresh roadkill, and all the while smiling  that bonechilling smile. 

“A-After that, her pimp made arrangements with the Deathschains to further punish her...a-as penance for the brothers,” she finally finished, “T-That...that’s how she ended up...you know, the way she was.” 

“Bunch of fucking soulless creatures, they are,” Clawrk muttered behind her, “All of them deserve the fucking chair.” 

Archie wrote down the last few notes. “So they handed her over to the Deathschains by her pimp,” he repeated, “Did you ever actively see Aran or any of the other men from the compound assault her at this time?” 

“I mean, it’s not hard to guess, the walls weren’t very soundproof,” Clawdeen replied crudely. 

It was misplaced annoyance, but Archie didn’t seem to mind. He circled Eponine’s name and underlined a few other things in his notes. 

“That will be helpful for our case, thank you, Clawdeen,” he said, capping his pen, “The more we can expose these men for the vile and godforsaken things they’ve afflicted on you and countless others, the closer we can get to getting a few more rapists and criminals off the streets.” 

“Yeah...” Clawdeen mumbled without much enthusiasm. 

_ You belong in that group with them,  _ one part of her mind teased,  _You’re one of those ‘soulless fucking creatures’, too. If only they knew the disgusting thing you did to Annabelle, how you let her suffer because you were just another spineless coward._

_ Shut up,  _ Clawdeen responded. 

She felt a touch at her elbow. Archie had scooted over in his chair to be closer to her. His bright yellow eyes were soft and kind. He gave a small smile. 

“You’re very brave to talk to me, Clawdeen,” he said softly, “I can’t even begin to imagine how hard this is for you, to have to recount everything that you’ve had to endure. You’re very courageous for doing so, and I hope you realize that just by sharing your experience, how many girls and boys you’re helping to give a voice to.” 

Clawdeen gave him a small glare of doubt.  She then shrugged; she wasn’t in the mood for talking anymore. 

Archie seemed to sense it. He started gathering up his papers and putting them back in his briefcase. Once he shut it, he stood up from his seat. Harriet and Clawrk did the same.

“I’ll be leaving in two weeks to head for the trial,” he said, “I’ll keep you updated with whatever happens in the upcoming months. Vlad will also be sure to keep you posted in case I forget.” 

He shook hands with Clawrk and Harriet. Clawrk led him to the door. 

“T-Thank you, Archie,” the elder wolf said, “For everything. I swear, if there’s any way we can pay you back for these costs in any way-” 

The dinosaur cryptid held up his hand, however, cutting him off from his sentence. 

“I always go pro bono,” Archie explained, “There’s no way you can put a price tag on an innocent victim wanting to get justice.” 

“Even so, if there’s anything we can do for you, let me know,” Clawrk said. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Archie said. He glanced over to where Clawdeen was sitting. She hadn’t turned to watch them as they went to the front entrance. 

The two alphas followed his gaze. He flicked his eyes to see them both staring at Clawdeen dejectedly. 

Keeping his voice low, Archie commented, “She’ll  heal. With time and your love and patience and proper help, she’ll heal.” 

Clawrk swallowed hard, “I hope so. We lost her once. I can’t lose her again...”

Him and Harriet turned back to face the dinosaur. The three of them said their goodbyes, before Archie descended down the front porch with his briefcase beside him.  He walked down to the edge of the driveway, where his car was parked. He gave them one last wave, before he opened the door and got in. 

As he drove away, Clawrk closed the door.  He turned and let out a breath. He felt Harriet cup his cheek and opened his eyes to meet hers. She gave him a tired, supportive smile. 

Clawrk slid his hands around her waist and pulled her close; he dipped down to kiss her. Harriet kissed back, giving a small moan of contentment. 

They pulled apart and glanced back towards the dining room. Clawdeen still hadn’t moved from her spot. They approached her slowly, Harriet in the lead. 

Clawdeen looked up at them as they came to stand beside her.  Her brows were knitted together, deep lines of worry creasing in her forehead. 

Harriet touched her shoulder. Clawdeen looked back down at her lap. 

“I’m tired,” she said, crushed, “I just want all this to be over already.” 

Harriet and Clawrk came around to kneel on either side of her. Harriet pulled her into a hug, then Clawrk embraced the both of them. Clawdeen closed her eyes and  let them hug her, lacking the energy to even react by this point. 

_ I just want to live my life again,  _ she thought,  _I just want to go back to the way things were…._

  
  



	4. Chapter 3: On the Outside Looking In

“ _So he was working on the set of this sci-fi B-movie as the main makeup and special effects artist, and the director calls him up. We met on the second day of filming and got some coffee, and yeah, it was all downhill from there,”_ Clawdia said, sounding particularly giddy at the last part. 

Clawdeen smiled, “That’s great. I’m glad to hear you two are doing well. I hope you’re really happy with him.” 

“ _I am happy,”_ Clawdia answered, “ _I’m the happiest I’ve ever been...well, besides talking to you, b-but you know what I mean, and I’m just so relieved, and...aw, dammit, I’m already crying again!”_

Almost on purpose, Clawdeen heard her let out a loud, almost comical blubber that reminded her of the way their grandmother had been crying at their brother Bruno’s wedding. Clawdeen giggled at the thought. Clawdia seemed to find the humor in it as well, as she started laughing as well. 

“ _S-Sorry about that,”_ Clawdia said as she sniffled, “ _I told myself I was going to hold it together, but lo and behold, I guess I never really grew out of that phase.”_

“It’s fine,” Clawdeen responded, “I was doing the same thing every day for three whole days.” 

She lay on her back on her bed, one hand resting against the back of her head as she gazed up at the top bunk, listening while Clawdia blew her nose and tried to calm down again. To anyone else, it probably sounded obnoxious to hear her sister’s trumpet-like snorts, but Clawdeen was actually finding them a bit of a relief. 

After Archie had left, she had excused herself to be alone for a few hours in her room. Harriet had brought her up some lunch at one point, but other than thought her and Clawrk gave her space to process everything that the dinosaur lawyer had told them.

Clawdeen knew that they could definitely hear her sobs through the door, but thankfully neither came to intrude on her and allowed her to grieve in peace. 

A little while after she had calmed down and fixed herself up, Clawdeen had been absentmindedly flipping through one of her old magazines- more so to give her hands something to do than because she was actually interested in the articles- when Clawrk had knocked and walked in. 

He had held out his phone to her and had said that Clawdia had called and wanted to talk to her. 

Well, “talking” had turned out to be a bit of a misnomer, as Clawdeen had only time to say hello before Clawdia burst into tears over the phone and most of their conversation turned into her trying to comfort her sister as Clawdia repeatedly calmed herself down, only for the waterworks to get going again after practically every fifth word Clawdeen said. 

Funnily enough, though, Clawdeen found she didn’t mind much. In a weird sort of almost sadistic way, it was reassuring to hear her sister cry. It let her know that there was yet another person who obviously cared about her (or maybe it was just because she was glad to have someone else be the crybaby for once). 

Clawdia, to her credit, also did a lot to try and keep the conversation off the elephant in the room. They talked about what she was doing overseas- still living in Londoom, only now it seemed like she decided to take up permanent residence- how she’d written a few scripts for some indie films that had gone on to win a few awards, how her current script was going (a psychological thriller- “not quite my usual, but I’m always up for a challenge”), and currently, the cute gargoyle who was a part of the special effects team for the thriller she was shacked up with and how they had recently celebrated their first year anniversary.

“I have to admit, I’m a bit surprised,” Clawdeen responded, “No offense, but I always took you for the ‘My job is my one true love, I’m a strong independent woman who don’t need a man, not one to be tied down’ type.” 

“ _Look who’s talking,”_ Clawdia chuckled, “ _Believe me, you wouldn’t be the first- Rocks and Leena wouldn’t shut up about it for two weeks- even I was surprised. But, cliché as it is, I just feel this connection with Jasper. Like he’s the one person who overall gets me at the core of everything._

“ _It also helps that we work in the same field,”_ she added, “ _I don’t know, it just feels nice to be with someone who has the same passion and aspirations as you, you know?”_

“I don’t, but I’ll take your word on it,” Clawdeen joked. 

She turned her head, allowing her eyes to roam the walls of the room. She caught sight of the pictures on Howleen’s side and gazed at each of them, a heavy sigh escaping her as she did so. 

“ _You all right?”_ Clawdia asked. 

“No,” Clawdeen replied, “But...I’ll be okay. For today, at least.” 

She took the phone away from her ear for a second to glance at the top corner of the screen. The battery was only at twenty-six percent now. 

“Hey, I-I should probably let you go, now,” she explained, “Dad’s phone is about to die, and I should probably give it back to him in case he gets something from work.” 

“ _Oh, okay,”_ Clawdia answered, “ _It...it was nice talking to you,_ _Clawdeen. I’m SO glad that I can talk you, still. Please, don’t ever hesitate to call me if you ever want to chat.”_

Clawdeen smiled, “I’ll keep that in mind. I’m glad you called.” 

“ _Well,”_ Clawdia replied, “ _I’m glad you’re there to pick up the phone. I’ll see you later, then._

“ _I love you,”_ she added. 

“I love you, too,” Clawdeen said, “Bye.” 

“ _Buh-bye,”_ Clawdia added, before the line clicked on the other end and went dead. 

Clawdeen looked at the screen to see _Call Ended_ below her sister’s name, before it switched back to the call list. She sat up on the bed and got to her feet, feeling her stomach rumble. 

Downstairs, she could hear the front door open, and a jumble of high pitched voices suddenly seemed to flood the foyer. Clawdeen stopped, hearing Draculaura’s voice among one of them. 

_ Wait a minute... _ she thought. The layers between the upstairs and downstairs kept her from hearing the exact pronunciation of the words being said, but she thought she recognized some of the voices in the group. 

Among them, suddenly let out a high pitched laugh.  Clawdeen’s eyes widened; she recognized that bubbly, melodic tone anywhere. 

Could it be…?! 

Clawdeen bolted from the edge of her bed and flung open her bedroom door, revealing Barker standing right outside it, his hand raised  in a gesture of he was about to knock. He stepped back in surprise as Clawdeen nearly ran right into him. 

“Deenie!” he exclaimed, “Mom says she has a surprise for you-” 

“I already know,” Clawdeen interrupted, lightly pushing past him in order to run for the stairs. Her bare feet pounded on the steps as she raced down, and at one point she almost slipped and flew right out when she hit a patch where the braiding in the carpet had been unwound and smoothed down. 

She stumbled forward on the last step and rushed through the kitchen, where she stopped in the doorway. She held onto the doorframe with both hands and looked into the living room with shock,  her eyes widening at the rather large party that had gathered there. 

Harriet sat in one of the recliners nearest to her, in the middle of a conversation with Draculaura, who sat nearest to her on the sofa. They both looked up as Clawdeen made her appearance known. 

Along with them, all of them sitting on the sofas or standing around near the walls, were the rest of Clawdeen’s friends. All of them- Frankie, Cleo, Lagoona, Ghoulia, Abbey, Spectra- they were all here. 

They all looked towards Clawdeen. Their eyes instantly lit up and their mouths fell open in shock; she heard Frankie let out a big gasp, though the latter’s mouth was also widening in a huge smile as she did so. Clawdeen stared at them, shell-shocked, before turning to her mom and Laura. 

Draculaura beamed at her and put her hands up. 

“Surprise,” she said. 

Harriet smiled, “We thought you could use a little cheering up from earlier,  and we were thinking that it was about time that you and the gang got together now...” 

Clawdeen didn’t respond. She just stared at her friends, still surprised by their presence. For a second, everyone stayed where they were.

Frankie was the first one to finally break the silence, as she dropped her handbag to the floor and rushed to Clawdeen, nearly tackling the werewolf  as she threw herself at her and wrapped her up in a tight hug. 

“CLAWDEEN!” she shouted in her ear as she squeezed her sides tightly. She pulled back, her eyes wide and wet but bursting with joy as she looked into Clawdeen’s. Her bolts sparked with electricity. 

“You’re here!” she exclaimed, “You’re really here!” 

Clawdeen put her hands on the simulacrum’s shoulders, still looking slightly dazed as she stared at Frankie’s green face.  Frankie smiled back at her and nodded as if answering a question she’d asked,  before she pulled her back into a tight hug. Clawdeen could hear her immediately begin to cry against her shoulder. 

There was commotion behind them, and Clawdeen looked to see the rest of the girls making their way towards them. She turned to look over her shoulder as she felt arms slide around to her stomach and saw  Cleo giving her a big, grateful smile; she was already crying, her cheeks stained with black from where her mascara had began to run, and the way her lip quivered like she was barely holding it together was something Clawdeen had never seen before from the normally poised mummy. 

“We were so scared,” she said as her voice cracked, pressing herself tighter against Clawdeen’s back, “We were all so worried about you.” 

Lagoona came over to the side and swung her  arms over Frankie and Cleo’s shoulders to hug Clawdeen from her left. 

“We love you,” she said with a sob, “We love you _so, so_ much.” 

“Guuuuughhgh,” Ghoulia moaned as she shuffled over and joined in on the hug from the other side, a waterfall of tears spilling down her cheeks from behind her glasses. 

“Ooh!” Clawdeen suddenly exclaimed as a big force ran into the group and suddenly felt Cleo and Frankie and Lagoona being squeezed against her in a bone-crushing hug. Everyone let out noises of discomfort as they all felt like they were about to be crushed like soda cans. 

“Have never stopped looking for you,” Abbey exclaimed as she swept them all up in one of her tight embraces, shamelessly bawling with her tears turning to thick icicles that clattered onto the floor, “We never give up hope you will return.” 

“We were so glad,” Spectra blubbered as she floated to them and hugged her from over Ghoulia, her face glowing with ectoplasm as she cried, “W-When Laura called us, I-I thought the worst had happened.” 

They all stood around hugging Clawdeen, crying and exclaiming their joy at seeing her again. Laura got up and hugged her from just under Lagoona, leaning her head against Clawdeen’s arm. Clawdeen stood in the middle, looking around at all of them, still wearing an expression of disbelief. 

“You’re all...you’re all here...” she mumbled, looking at each and every one of them. 

The amount of love and affection she could feel from them was overwhelming. She paused as it all finally sunk in. 

A watery smile worked its way onto her face, while her vision simultaneously blurred. Unable to help herself, Clawdeen giggled as she allowed herself to snuggle into the group hug, all the while she started to cry again at the same time. 

“Dammit,” she commented with a sniffle, feeling her tears join and drip off her chin, “You guys are determined to just squeeze all the water out of me aren’t you? I swear, I-I could fill the Pacific with how much I’ve cried.” 

That earned her a giggle from her friends. They all crowded in closer, like they were trying to form a shield around her. 

Harriet watched the scene with a smile, grateful for seeing the  happy expression on her daughter’s face. She stood up from her seat and made her way past them to the doorway to the kitchen. Just then, Barker appeared as well; he stared up at the crowd of his sister’s friends in confusion. Clawdias  and Snarland  appeared beside him a second later, the latter  holding a soccer ball in his arms. 

“What’s going on?” Barker asked, “Why is everyone crying?” 

“Did something bad happen?” Snarland questioned; he looked up at Harriet with worry, “Did someone get hurt?” 

Harriet smiled down at her youngest sons and put a hand on Barker’s shoulder. 

“I think we should leave Deenie and the girls alone for a while, so they can have some time to catch up, okay?” she told them, “How about you guys go play outside with your sisters and I’ll bring you some snacks?” 

“Okay,” the boys responded in unison. They made their way to the back door, where Pawla was already out with the twins, though they shoot Clawdeen and the girls puzzled looks over their shoulders. 

Clawdeen looked up as she felt Frankie pull away from her again. Frankie smiled weakly at her and cupped her cheek. 

“We love you,” she reiterated, “You’re our sister, through and through, no matter what happens.” 

Clawdeen smiled back at her and nodded. She looked around at them and met their eyes. Everyone looked an absolute mess by now, with their makeup smeared and  runny and their hair slightly disheveled from where they kept pushing it out of their faces, but none of them seemed to notice or care.  They all looked at her with loving, caring expressions. 

“I love you ghouls, too,” Clawdeen said, sniffing, “Forever and always.” 

They all broke apart from the group hug. Everyone took a deep breath and each took a minute to pull out their compacts and clean themselves up, as well as give Clawdeen an individual hug on their own. Once it seemed like they could all go five minutes without the waterworks, they all sat down, forming a circle around Clawdeen as she sat in the middle of the sofa. Draculaura took her hand and sat on her right, while Frankie occupied her left side, similar to how they always did in high school. 

“So, ghoul, how have you been?” Cleo was the first one to ask. She took her place at where Harriet had previously been sitting, one leg crossed over the other while her hands were laced together, holding her knee. 

Clawdeen brushed at her eyelashes and shrugged, sitting back in the couch. 

“As fine I could be, I guess,” she answered, “It’s been...weird, to be honest. Seeing everything and how all the little changes. It feels almost like I’ve time-traveled at times. You know, with all these pictures taken that I wasn’t there for and this décor that my parents didn’t previously have.” 

“I get that,” Abbey answered, “Feel that exact same way when I come down from mountain for first time and see monster drive automobile instead of yak cart.” 

H er comment earned a few chuckles from the rest of the group. 

“You’re looking good, mate,” Lagoona offered from her place on the floor. 

Clawdeen gave her a look. Her hair was still curly, but Clawdeen noticed that it no longer had the blue streaks that it used to get from her swimming in the school’s pool. Instead, they seemed to have been bleached, so now they served as pale blonde highlights in Lagoon’s sunny curls. 

“I highly doubt that,” Clawdeen replied, “But thank you, anyway.” 

Lagoona’s face fell a bit at that and it made her regret it a little; Clawdeen knew she was only trying to help her feel better, but she didn’t feel the need to have them pretend. She knew she looked like crap, they didn’t have to shower her in compliments. 

“So, um, what have you all been up to?” she asked, trying to change the subject, “Blue, I notice you have a badge hanging off your purse- you work in a lab or something?” 

That  made Lagoona perk up. She looked  relieved to be able to get past the awkwardness and beamed at Clawdeen. 

“Actually, I do!” she said, “I work over in Seaside. My team specializes in the effects of how genetic splicing between marine species could potentially help to offset the environmental dangers that could come with pollution.” 

She shrugged, “It’s a bit of a daft job, but it pays well. And it is pretty  mint to see some of the results that come out of  the lab.” 

“Seems kind of unnecessary, though, doesn’t it?” Spectra asked from the other loveseat near the entrance to the dining room, “Wouldn’t it be more effective to pass laws and stuff to limit the _pollution_ in the first place and combat climate change rather than prepare for when things are too bad to go back?” 

Lagoona scoffed and fiddled with a charm on her bracelet. “Oh, believe me,  the ol’ bloke up in office still gets my letters every month and the rest of us up on the surf  still make a gaff at town hall to tell the mayor to finally lay off all those ol’ oil machines  and clean up the bay for once. But I need  _something_ to look good on my resume if I’m ever gonna get my foot in the door for grad school, right?” 

“Tell me about it,” Frankie said with a grimace, “Dad and Mom really want me to apply for the medical program at the University of Ingolstadlt, but its requirements include at the _least_ four letters of recommendation, and one of them _has_ to be from a doctor! Sometimes I seriously think I’d be better switching out and studying history or something...” 

“Is why I say do community college first,” Abbey said, “Can get just as much fulfillment from classes for price of other school divided by two, and without unnecessary hockey of the bull that does not serve any other purpose except to look better for school.” 

Lagoona shrugged, “I’m not really bothered about it, to be honest with you. At least the work’s interesting, and my schedule matches up with Gil’s so we don’t have to go long hours without seeing each other.” 

That caught Clawdeen’s attention. She sat up a little to look at the sea monster. 

“You and Gil? You guys are still together?” she asked, curious. 

Her memory could’ve been hazy, but she thought she remembered that Lagoona and Gil were still having problems.  One thing she remembered, in fact,  which occurred right before the whole Gem situation,  was Lagoona texting everyone in their group chat  in a rage after a disasterous dinner date at Gil’s house in which his mother had apparently insulted her or her family. Clawdeen loved the sea monster to life, but she remembered thinking how she was starting to consider if it would be better for the both of them if they just finally broke up. 

As if having read her mind, Lagoona answered, “ A lot of things went down when you...were absent. And it actually helped our relationship. We’re in a much better place than we were when we were younger.” 

She smiled fondly and helped her left hand, displaying the charm bracelet on her wrist; the multiple charms adorned on it were nautical themed. “We actually just celebrated our seventh anniversary a few months ago,” she said, “He bought me this bracelet as a gift.” 

Clawdeen  raised her eyebrows in surprise, “Oh? Well, then, I’m glad it worked out for you guys. Did his parents come around?” 

“Yeah, only after probably the biggest blowout in the neighborhood that involved a can of rotten sardines and a melted spatula,” Cleo commented, checking her nails. 

“Oh, yeah, I forgot about that!” Frankie exclaimed, putting a hand up to her mouth as she laughed, “Oh, the news station had a lot of fun with that one!” 

Lagoona shot them all a dirty look. “It was not ‘the biggest blowout,’” she snapped back, “ It was just an argument that got a  _little_ bit out of hand. It sounded like a bigger deal only because the news-  _Spectra_ \- sensationalized it to be something greater and more dramatic as it really was.” 

“I was only reporting on what I saw firsthand,” Spectra shrugged without a hint of remorse, “And last time I checked, things that ‘just an argument’ don’t require having the fire department, bomb squad, _and_ the local veterinarian being called out to Astoria at three in the morning.” 

“ _Uuuuuugh, eeerh,”_ Ghoulia added in. 

Cleo and Draculaura burst out laughing at the remark. Abbey and Frankie joined in as Lagoona shot them all a sour look, looking more than a little bit humiliated with the way her cheeks flushed a dark emerald green. Her lip s wriggled, however, and she couldn’t hide the fact that she obviously found humor in the memory as well, as she started to laugh along. 

Clawdeen looked back and forth between everyone, confused. She gave a small chuckle simply due to the contagiousness of the laughter, but other than that, she was stumped as to what they were talking about. 

A bomb squad? A spatula? Sardines? What the hell? 

“It was crazy, no doubt, but you know, it _did_ work out for the two of you in the end,” Frankie said, “You just had a lot of growing up to do. It’s surprising just how smooth sailing things get when you just take a moment to talk it through it.” 

Momentarily forgetting her stupefaction a t whatever story they were talking about that apparently involved Lagoona and Gil and the news, Clawdeen turned to her and raised a brow. 

“Speaking from experience, I take it?” she asked in amusement. 

Frankie shot a smile at her and nodded. “Yep,” she replied, “Senior year, Jackson, Holt, and me decided to give the dating thing another shot, but I made clear that there had to be ground rules; I was _not_ going to be caught in the middle of them again just because they couldn’t keep themselves together.

“We had a pretty long talk that night about arranging schedules, dates, and coming to an understanding of what each of us wanted out of this relationship,” she explained, “That way, I could spend time with each of them without one feeling overshadowed by the other, and Jackson and Holt could each get their own goals accomplished without feeling like they were forced to shift.” 

She smiled down at her soda, “It was really sweet, actually, seeing how hard they tried to make it work. They still had their spontaneous moments at times when it came to music and stuff, but they really make an effort to give each other their space.” 

Cleo scoffed, “More like both of them were too determined to make sure you didn’t end up going to Andy or Neighthan to have the energy to fight anymore.” 

The rest of the girls laughed as Frankie shot Cleo a small glare. Clawdeen smirked, remembering the boys in question and the way they all practically worshipped the ground Frankie walked on, and how flustered the green girl would get over it. 

Frankie stuck her tongue out at Cleo and made a “hmph” sound. 

“As much as it sounds impossible to you, _Mrs. Gorgon,_ I would gladly have you know that my husbands are mature men who are capable to being rational beyond petty spite,” she said in an uppity way. 

“Oh, sure, cuz the man who nearly blew up their college dorm putting a box of wine in the microwave ‘because he wanted to see what happen’ is ‘rational’,” Cleo pointed out. 

Frankie blushed bright red at the remark; everyone giggled as she looked down at the can of soda Harriet offered her with a glare, grumbling something under her breath about Holt just needing a bit more time than Jackson to mature. 

Clawdeen was the only one not laughing, however. She didn’t hear the rest of the story or whatever comments Frankie mumbled; she sat up, staring at the simulacrum with shock. All she could focus on was how Frankie had referred to Cleo, Jackson, and Holt in response to the mummy’s retort. 

“Husbands? Frankie, you...you guys are married?” she asked. 

Everyone stopped laughing and looked at her. Frankie went wide-eyed, realizing what she had said, and her blush deepened. On instinct, she looked down at her hands. Sure enough, Clawdeen could see a set of rings around her left ring finger as she fidgeted with it. 

“Y-Yeah,” Frankie answered, “Just a little over a year ago, actually...” 

Clawdeen turned to Cleo. “And Cleo, you and Deuce...you too?” 

Cleo nodded. She held her left hand for her to see. Her rings were gold as well, but unlike Frankie’s or Laura’s, instead of a diamond, the stone on her engagement ring was a brilliant oval-cut malachite; her wedding band was in the shape of an ouroboros with small emerald eyes. 

“It’ll be four years in the spring,” she replied, “We got engaged a few months after graduation. In fact...” 

Her hands drifted down to her midsection and she cupped her stomach. She gave Clawdeen a small smile. Clawdeen’s mouth dropped open as she realized the implication. 

“We just announced it last month, that I’m pregnant,” Cleo added, “So...there you go. Sorry if it’s bit of a bomb to drop.” 

Clawdeen reeled. She had been telling herself that the possibilities of such events having occurred in her absence were likely, but the revelation still felt like she had been splashed with cold water. First Laura, then Frankie, and now Cleo? 

How fast had people moved on while she was gone? 

“Clawdeen,” Spectra called out to her, her brows furrowed slightly in concern, “We...we didn’t _want_ to do any of this without you, but...but as the years passed, the police stopped putting up search parties, a-and we thought...” 

“N-No, it’s okay, you don’t have to explain,” Clawdeen interrupted, seeing the guilt on everyone’s faces, “It’s fine, I...I get it. I mean, time goes on, after all. The world doesn’t stop just because something bad happens, and...and everyone has to move on at one point or another.” 

She looked back at Cleo, “I-I’m happy for you and Deuce. You guys will be great parents. You too, Frankie.” 

She looked out at the rest of the group. “What about the rest of you? Any special romances I should know about?” 

Ghoulia let out a small moan. Clawdeen gave a small half-smile in response. 

“You want to wait until you’ve got your PhD? I get that,” she answered, “What’s Slow Moe thinking of doing once you get to grad school?” 

“ _Buuuuh,”_ Ghoulia answered, a proud smile on her face. 

Clawdeen then looked over at Abbey. The yeti, however, shook her head. 

“Not ready for marriage yet,” she answered, “Would rather settle down with stable career before having to think of house and family.” 

“Does that include finding someone to have a family with?” Clawdeen inferred, her brow raised. 

“Oh, no, she’s already got that down,” Frankie replied; she gave Clawdeen a smirk, “And guess who’s managed to melt her heart?” 

Clawdeen frowned, taking a moment to think. It quickly dawned on her, though, and she turned to Abbey with surprise. 

“No way,” she said, “You and _Heath?”_

In a way that was uncharacteristic of her, Abbey blushed and hitched up her shoulders as if it were a form of defense. Cleo crossed her arms and gave Clawdeen a look of _yeah, me too_. 

“Can you believe it?” she asked, “All that chasing and frostbite and having to thaw himself out over and over again finally paid off.” 

“Do not be mistaken,” Abbey countered, “Did not just go weak in knees because Heath spawn funny joke or have one good day of realizing what it means to be a gentleman. Went through much growth and proved to Abbey he was no just small little ember trying to think he wildfire.” 

“Wow,” Clawdeen said, eyebrows raised, “Never could imagine Heath being grown up about...anything.” 

“Took awhile,” Abbey admitted, “Heath, as you know, is bit thick of head.” 

She suddenly turned to Spectra and narrowed her eyes at her, a sly smirk full of mischief coming onto her carnation painted lips. 

“Though, I say, not nearly as thick as your not-visible boy,” she commented, “At least he never been arrested.” 

Spectra sat up straight in her seat as she shot the yeti a heated glare. Her pale blue eyes lit up and she pointed her finger at Abbey in an accusatory manner. 

“Arrested!” she exclaimed, “Arrested, not charged with anything! And that was all a misunderstanding!” 

“I would hardly call setting the curtains of the wedding hall on fire a misunderstanding, mate,” Lagoona commented. 

Everyone burst into laughter again as Spectra hotly tried to put the aforementioned incident into context. Everyone...except Clawdeen. Once again, as she glanced out among her friends, that feeling of being lost came back to her, the kind that always came when you realized you weren’t in on the joke. 

A small, sinking feeling began to occur in her. Even though they were all in her living room, she suddenly felt as if she was intruding on someone else’s conversation. Like she had wandered into a room and nobody offered to have her join them on their talking, forcing her to remain off to the side, quiet. At the thought, Clawdeen could feel her ears lower in sadness.

They were her best friends since she was a young teenager- in Laura’s case, her best friend since she was just a little ghoul- and yet she felt uncomfortable around them, the odd one out. 

Once again, she felt like she didn’t belong. 

“-difference between an innocent prank and downright criminal activity,” she dimly Cleo say as she began to get lost in her thoughts. 

“It wasn’t criminal! Nobody was in danger!” Spectra shot back. 

“He set a slushie on fire!” Cleo exclaimed. 

The cloud melancholy that Clawdeen began to feel cast over her was temporarily forgotten as she turned her attention back to Spectra. She raised an eyebrow in confusion. 

“How do you set a slushie on fire?” she asked. 

Spectra’s alabaster cheeks flared a bashful lavender at her question. She glanced briefly at Abbey, as if to silently curse her for bringing up the situation; Abbey just shrugged and checked her nails. Letting out a sigh, Spectra tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and turned back to Clawdeen. 

“Two years ago,” she explained, “We all decided to go to the mini-mart after my class got out to kind of just celebrate the weekend...” 

She went into a story about the ultimate disaster that, Clawdeen learned, would lead to Invisi Billy and Porter being banned from the mini-mart up by the community college for a good full year. Clawdeen stared at her after she finished up, flabbergasted by the details she heard. 

“...Holy shit,” the werewolf finally responded. 

“Yeah,” Spectra replied with a cringe, looking down at her shoes, “Not my proudest moment, by any means.” 

Clawdeen shrugged, “Oh, well, at no one was hurt.” 

A sudden thought came to her of her time in DC, and she gave out a small chuckle in remembrance. 

“It sounds kind of like something I experienced a few years ago,” she began, “I was waiting on the street one day for some John’s, and suddenly I hear this shouting, and I look and see this guy is coming towards me, his _entire_ front covered in soda, from his shirt collar to his pant legs. My friend Vixen said she saw the store owner throw an entire Double Gulp on him-!” 

Her voice suddenly caught in her throat. The joyful smile she wore as she recounted the story quickly disappeared as she realized what she had said. She looked out among her friends as she closed her mouth. 

Everyone watched her with shocked, sad looks on their faces. Obviously, nobody was preparing for her to casually bring up the activities she’d been enduring while in DC. Clawdeen felt a pit form in her stomach; she’d been so used to talking about this type of stuff with Vixen and the others and having it all be normalized that for once, it was actually almost foreign to regard it as anything other than every day life. 

Frankie and Laura both wore expressions that made them look like they were trying not to cry. Cleo looked away and shifted in her seat in discomfort, Ghoulia looked on at her drink despondently. Spectra and Abbey just watched her. 

Clawdeen swallowed. The slight spark that the memory of the store owner who threw a large drink on a guy trying to scam him was stamped out. She rubbed her arm self-consciously. 

“S-S-Sorry,” she said in a small voice, “I just thought...it reminded me of that, a-and...and it was funny...” 

She kept rubbing her arm until they noticed they were all still staring at her; this time, their attention was specifically turned towards the arm she was rubbing. Their eyes were wide with what looked to be slight horror, possibly even disgust.

Confused, Clawdeen lifted her hand. She felt her stomach clench when she realized that she’d been rubbing the area where her arm had been tattooed, making her sleeve ride up and allowing all the girls to see. The ugly red heart stuck out like a giant scar on her arm, while the vile words GUTTER BITCH jumped out like some poorly drawn graffiti. 

She saw Laura swallow hard as her gaze lingered on Clawdeen’s arm. Her eyes were swimming with tears. Frankie clenched her purse in her hands tightly enough that her baby blue nails cut into the worn leather. 

A deep flush of humilation stretched across Clawdeen’s cheeks and nose. She lowered her head as she quickly stopped rubbing and yanked her sleeve down, concealing the tattoo from view. 

“Anyway...” she cleared her throat, “Yeah, it was funny. Any other stories you guys got?” 

None of them responded. They all kept staring at her, like they were heartbroken by the mere sight of her. Clawdeen felt herself bristle at all of it. It stung, to see her friends looking at her like that. 

They looked towards her with pity. Like she was just a small little pup who didn’t know any better and was too stupid to know any better. It made her feel pathetic, like she was beneath them. In spite of her better judgment, Clawdeen could feel an undertone of anger beneath her shame. 

_ You don’t know,  _ a hateful part of her thought,  _None of you know anything. You don’t know the things I’ve been through, the stuff I’ve seen. Who are you all to cast judgment on me?_

_ They’re your friends, you know they don’t mean it like that,  _ the more rational side of her tried to reason,  _They were scared and worried for you and they can see you’re hurting. They want to help you._

Until they found out about the exact things she’d done. Once they found out about Annabelle, or her willingness to give into Aran and come crawling back to him, or the way she had hurt Shelby, then they would want nothing to do with her. She’d be nothing to them but another filthy whore. 

“Clawdeen, are you all right?” Lagoona asked. She reached forward with concern as she noticed the way Clawdeen’s face had suddenly drained of color and how she clenched her sleeve like she was about to rip it. 

“I’m fine,” Clawdeen replied sharply. She looked back out at everyone. 

“So what about it? What else are you guys doing? Anything else,” she asked, “ _Please?”_

She hated the air of desperation she could hear in her voice at the last word, but she couldn’t stand the way they were looking at her and wanted to change the subject. She didn’t want to talk about Aran or DC or any of that. Not here, not now. 

Luckily, they all seemed to pick up on her urgency, as after another beat of silence, Ghoulia finally restarted the conversation. 

“ _Uuuuugh,”_ she moaned. Clawdeen turned her attention to her. 

“Cool, where are you working at?” she asked. 

Ghoulia began  recounting to her about  the new job she had landed  at a research lab down near Eugene that studied neurodegenerative diseases and brain injuries.  Clawdeen listened as she explained some of the fun experiences she had to have while working with the cadavers they had. That led to the others also going into more detail of what they had been up to after graduation. As Clawdeen learned, Frankie was taking a year off to study for her medical school exams while she worked  as a scribe at her parents’  hospital . Draculaura had recently graduated with a communications degree, Cleo was currently working  for a cosmetics company while she applied for a master’s program (“Not working for your dad?” Clawdeen had asked; “Oh, Ra no!” Cleo replied, “I would like to  _ earn  _ my own reputation for being hardworking, thank you very much!”), and Spectra was double majoring in journalism and public relations. Abbey, meanwhile, was pursuing a math degree and Lagoona, as stated earlier, had also landed a research position and was seeking to get a PhD in marine biteology sometime. 

The stories they shared along the way, meanwhile, were indeed entertaining, and Clawdeen still laughed along at the appropriate parts, but as she listened in, she found that she couldn’t quite the enjoy the tales as much as she thought she probably should. As her friends recounted their college experiences and the ups and downs each had had in terms of friends and relationships and parents, she could feel a small emptiness open up in her, a sort of longing that kept her from fully enjoying the memories that were spoken of. 

It was the same thought that had plagued her when she saw all the pictures on the stairs of her siblings in their various life events- that all of these had happened without her. She didn’t get to experience any of these fun stories or share in the laughter and the tears. 

S he didn’t have any wacky or wild experiences to tell her friends- not ones that weren’t also tied up with some traumatic experience that followed right afterward anyway. Her memories weren’t ones you could laugh over cans of sugary soda or recall with fond nostalgia  over TV dinners. 

She had nothing to show for these past five years, no trophies to be proud of or scholarships to brag about. Nothing that her parents could tell her grandparents over brunch or on the phone. 

All she had was a bunch of hideous marks on her soiled, ruined body that had been seen by far too many men and women and had  been touched by far too many hands, both those that wanted to make it feel pleasure in the most vile way or hurt it; a disease that destroyed her womb from the inside that brought her constant pain and left her body weak, and the haunting memories of those experiences that followed her into her dreams  and made her relive them night after night. 

Everyone had gotten to grow up at their own pace. She’d been forced to grow up and see the world for what it really was- a cruel, dark, unforgiving wasteland where the wealthy elite  could commit to the lowest forms of depravity and buy their way out of any consequences and the poor and downtrodden and innocent were nothing more than their personal pawns. 

She felt...different, compared to her friends. 

That was what it really was, Clawdeen realized she felt different. And she  _ was  _ different- no matter how close they still were,  there was something about her, something huge, that her friends would never be able to understand. 

They’d never be the same again, because of who she was now. 

The thought was depressing. Being cut with a silver dagger and then having crushed wolfsbane rubbed into the wound would’ve been a less painful experience. 

They all talked well into the late afternoon, when the sun was far west and faint tinges of orange were starting to appear on the horizon. Finally, Cleo looked at her watch and saw the time. 

“Well, I think it’s about time I started heading home,” she said as she stood up and gathered her coat and purse, “I need to get up early tomorrow, so I want to be able to spend time with Deuce before I have to check in.” 

“Me too,” Lagoona said, “The drive to my lab’s always a pain in the arse, so I better make sure I get well rested ‘fore I’ve got to get up at five in the morning.” 

“I get it,” Clawdeen replied, “Thanks for...f-for all of you showing up.” 

She met each of their eyes to show that she was being earnest. “I...I-I really missed you ghouls,” she said, her voice suddenly waving, “ I-I missed you so much.” 

They all paused and looked at her. Suddenly, everyone looked on the verge of tears. None of them let themselves cry, though. Instead, all of them came forward and embraced her in a group hug for the second time. This time, Clawdeen took full advantage of it and snuggled into the embrace, trying to let any of the self doubt she’d been having be pushed down by the love and support of her friends. 

After they separated, everyone gathered up their things. They disposed of their wrappers and cans in the trash and recycling, before they made their way to the door. Just like the first group hug, each girl gave Clawdeen a hug, before they said goodbye  and made their way outside to their cars. 

“Always have support in  me if you need it,” Abbey said as she held Clawdeen by the shoulders, “ If ever have day you feel you are like tiny snowflake  about to get lost in blizzard, never hesitate to call.” 

Clawdeen smirked, “Thanks, Abbey. I’ll keep that in mind.” 

Spectra gave her a hug- or, as much of a hug as she could, considering her transparency- and told her that if any time she wanted to give a public statement or reach out making sure the facts were all there, the Ghostly Gossip was still up and functioning.  She also added that Clawdeen should check her Frightbook- according to Spectra, her status was  _ still  _ getting updates from people who wished her all the best. 

Clawdeen said she’d keep that in mind, but truthfully, though,  all she could feel was apprehension. She hadn’t even  _ thought  _ of people being able to find out what happened through her Frightbook account or any of her other social media. 

Ghoulia and Cleo  both told her to call them if she needed anything or just needed to talk to someone and left in the same car. Frankie was the last one to leave, and couldn’t even make it out the door before she burst into tears all over again. 

“Geez, Frankie, calm down,” Clawdeen joked as she rubbed the simulacrum’s back, “Unless you’ve gotten some upgrade I don’t know about, I don’t want to get sparked because you’re bolts are too worked up.” 

“You’re right,” Frankie sniffed as she pulled back and wiped at her eyes, “I’m just  _ so  _ glad you’re here, talking to me. W-When days passed and still no sign, I-I didn’t know what to do and I thought that m-maybe we  should’ve done more a-and I’m...I’m so glad you’re here.” 

At that, Clawdeen felt a touch of guilt for her joking. Frankie was still young in terms of chronological age, she reminded herself. There was still a lot that she was learning about the world and how to deal with certain events- it would’ve been a lot for her to deal with something as severe and devastating as one of her best friends going missing, much less being missing for five years. 

Frankie, however, got herself together and straightened up. She gave Clawdeen another hug and squeezed her tightly. 

“I love you,” she repeated in Clawdeen’s ear, “You’re one of the greatest friends I’ve ever had. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” 

Clawdeen hugged her back and buried her nose into her shoulder. She inhaled Frankie’s scent; for once the smell of formaldehyde and  baked goods was actually welcoming to her. 

Finally, Frankie left with a comment over her shoulder of “Call me”, leaving Clawdeen and Draculaura by the doorway to watch as all of them headed to their vehicles and pulled away from the house. 

Clawdeen turned to Draculaura, who she noticed was the only one who hadn’t gathered up her things. She hadn’t even put on her shoes, which were waiting by the rack by the door. 

“Are you staying for dinner again?” Clawdeen asked. 

Draculaura nodded, “Clawd’s getting off early tonight. He should be home at around four or so.” 

Clawdeen nodded herself in response. She seemed to be paying only half-attention, though, Draculaura noticed, as she looked back out the screen door to the front lawn. There was a distant look in her eye,  and she kept rubbing her arms like she was cold, even though it was warm in the foyer. 

It was obvious she was still thinking about what happened earlier, with her little slip of the unlife she’d been living when trapped in DC. That, and when she had started rubbing her arm and had revealed the poorly drawn tattoo on her arm that, based on its words, made it clear that she not gotten it consensually. 

_ Waiting for some John’s,  _ was what Clawdeen had said. 

Laura didn’t know what felt more like a punch in the gut:  Hearing Clawdeen speak about what she’d been forced to do, or the fact that she talked about such things like waiting for a John so  _ casually _ . Like she didn’t even see anything wrong with it. 

It had become the new normal for her, Laura thought, and the realization of such m ade her want to cry. 

“Deenie?” a small voice called from the hallway. 

Both of them snapped out of it and turned around to look at who was calling. Weredith stood in the entrance to the  dining room ,  a giant sheet of construction paper and crayons in her hand. She looked up at Clawdeen with wide yellow eyes and held up them up. 

“Will you color with me and Packlynn?” she asked, “Pawla and ‘em don’t want to.” 

Clawdeen turned to face her sister, surprised at the request.  It actually touched her a little. 

“Um, sure!” she exclaimed, smiling at Weredith as she began to come towards her, “Sure, I’ll play with you two.” 

Weredith turned and toddled back into the dining room as Clawdeen followed her. Draculaura followed behind the both of them to watch. At the dining room table, Packlynn was already seated  at a chair and bent over her own piece of paper as she scribbled something in dark blue marker on it. 

“Mommy said you used to draw when you wanted to make dresses,” Weredith said as she climbed into the chair across from Packlyn n. 

She looked up at Clawdeen and tilted her head at her, watching her as if she were looking at a strange monument. 

“Is that true?” she asked, “I never ‘seed’ you draw before.” 

Clawdeen paused as she pulled her chair out and stared  at her sister in shock. Her expression crumbled  and she gave Weredith a curt nod as she pressed her lips together to try and keep them from quivering. 

“Y-Yeah,” she said in a thick voice, giving her a watery smile, “I-I did, Wery. M-Maybe I can show you my sketches, if you want?” 

From the back door, Harriet stood  looking at Clawdeen  with worry, seeing the crushed look on her face. Draculaura, who stood behind Clawdeen, looked between her and Weredith, equally wary of the werewolf’s next move. 

Weredith didn’t seem to notice her sister’s  shaken state and just shrugged, before she turned back in her seat, pacified by Clawdeen’s response. 

Clawdeen  slid into her seat, watching as the twins turned their attention back to their drawings. They grabbed items from the pencil box that lay opened between them, grabbing various colored pencils, crayons, and markers from it to doodle and color in shapes that they made on the paper. 

A twinge of sadness hit her at the sight; her sorrow grew as she replayed Weredith’s question over in her her head. 

That was right, they wouldn’t know about her sketchbook or  the wide collection of designs she’d created throughout her life, other than what their parents had told them. They’d only been a little over a year old when Clawdeen  had gone missing, they most likely remembered very little of her, even though she babysat them all the time and sang them to sleep and read them stories. 

Other than her scent, they probably couldn’t remember anything about her. She was practically a stranger to them at this point. 

They couldn’t even think of who she was used to be.  All they knew was how she was now, as this squeamish, sensitive, cowardly little ghoul. 

Clawdeen felt a painful squeeze in her chest. That was who her little sisters knew her to be. She hated the thought with every fiber of her being. 

She looked up as she felt a hand on her shoulder. Laura was standing next to her. 

“I’m, uh,” she said, “I’m gonna help your mom get dinner ready.” 

Clawdeen glanced over her shoulder to see her mom already hurrying into the kitchen, where she disappeared around the corner into the pantry. She turned back to Laura. 

“Okay,” she said. 

Laura squeezed her shoulder in an attempt of bringing comfort,  before she turned around and headed there. Clawdeen’s gaze lingered on her for a second, before she turned to the back door as she saw a dart shape through the glass. 

Outside, sextuplets were engaged in a game of soccer, trying to get some last minute fun in before it got dark. They chased after one another as they passed the ball back and forth as each of them tried to kick it into the goal behind Snarland, who served as the goalie. Right now, Barker had the ball and was currently being chased by Pawla and Furrsey, who tried to steal it from him. 

They  were so big now, she realized. They were all noticeably taller, and their faces had lost most of the traces of the baby fat that once made their cheeks so round. The boys, Clawdeen also noticed, had all wore their hair natural, as opposed to the crazy colors they used to beg her to make their heads; Barker was the only one who didn’t, his hair still dyed the bright yellow blonde he used to love. 

Clawdeen sighed sadly at the sight. Her baby siblings were all growing up. She still remembered when Pawla and them needed help tying their shoes and being tucked in. Now, they all could do it themselves. They didn’t need her anymore.

“Deenie, why aren’t you drawing anything?” Packlynn asked. 

Clawdeen blinked and turned to her. She smiled at her, trying to play it cool, “Oh, I’m just not sure of what I want to draw, that’s all. I think I need a little inspiration.” 

She nodded at the paper in front of her. “What are  _ you  _ drawing?” 

Packlynn smiled and grabbed her paper, turning it so Clawdeen could see. Scribbled on it in various marker colors were stick figures that had triangle wolf ears sticking out of their heads. A few of the figures also had some thin streaks going out of their heads that looked like it was supposed to be hair.  They all had smiles on their faces and were standing a field of green grass with a blue sky in the background. 

“I drew everyone!” Packlynn exclaimed. She pointed to each of the figures, “See? That’s Daddy, there’s Mommy, there’s Clawdia, and Howlie, and Bruno, and Clawd, and...” 

She pointed to each of the  figures and said who it was supposed to be. It was honestly cute, Clawdeen had to admit, and it did get a smile out of her as Packlynn pointed to a purple stick figure that had a bunch of swirls drawn around its head and said it was supposed to be her. 

“See? I used purple because Leena said you liked to wear it a lot,” Packlynn explained, “I wanted to use gold, but Mommy says we don’t have any gold markers.” 

“We have yellow,” Weredith pointed out. 

Packlynn pouted, “But that’s  _ yellow _ ! That’s not gold! It’s not sparkly enough!” 

Clawdeen chuckled, “ I mean, you’re not wrong about  _ that  _ part. What about you, Weredith? What are you drawing?” 

Weredith put down the crayon she was using- it was noticeably  squashed at its end and blunted to be a flat end, like it had been used repeatedly and pressed hard into the paper- and held hers up. Hers display ed a mermaid in an ocean that was surrounded by fish and stars and was covered in jewelry. 

“I drew my friend  Mermina,” she said, “Her birthday’s coming up and I want to give this to her as a present!” 

“Aw, that’s sweet of you, Wery,” Clawdeen replied, “I bet she’ll be super happy about it. It looks great.” 

Her eyes trailed down to the bottom of the picture. At the corner, there was a giant splotch of gray crayon smeared together with splotches of yellow, red, and green on top of a brown triangle. 

“What’s that?” Clawdeen asked, pointing to it. 

Weredith turned the picture back around and frowned. “I wanted to draw a treasure chest with a bunch of jewels in it,” she replied, “I wanted to use gray for silver, but it ended up blending in with the blue that’s the water!” 

“I told you,” Packlynn said matter-of-factly, “It’s not the same like if it’s a metalal-metallic color!” 

Weredith turned in her seat and stuck her tongue out at her. Clawdeen watched the exchange in amusement, before her head perked up as a thought came to her. 

“You know, I think I have some gold and silver pastels that you two can use,  if you want,” she suggested. 

Both twins turned in their seats and looked at her, their eyes growing wide with excitement. 

“Really?” Weredith exclaimed, “Oh, Deenie, can we use, them please?!” 

“Sure,” Clawdeen said, getting out of her seat, “You have to be careful with them, though,  okay? They’re oil-based, so if you press too hard, they can easily smear and break.” 

“ _ And we’re going to be sure that  we wash our hands when we’re done and clean up any mess that we leave, right?!”  _ Harriet shouted from the kitchen. It was followed by the sounds of pots and pans banging together as her and Laura took them out. 

Clawdeen smiled in that direction. Weredith and Packlynn answered in unison, “Okay!” 

“Okay,” Clawdeen replied, “I’ll be right back.” 

She pushed in her chair and headed for the stairs. Her knees bounced up to her chest as she jogged upstairs and walked towards the direction of her room. She opened the door to find Crescent stretched out in her bed. The feline raised her head to blink at her, before she snuggled back into her bed. 

Clawdeen looked towards the direction of her desk and walked towards it, catching sight of the box of  art  supplies she used whenever she used to sketch new designs by her desk lamp. 

She reached out to grab it as she approached. As she leaned over her chair, however, she saw a flash of something bright red out of the corner of her eye  and looked over at something that she had stored in the bottom shelf that was attached to the upper right corner of her desk. 

Clawdeen froze when she saw what it was. Her stomach suddenly dropped. 

Resting on the shelf,  placed under a worn composition notebook with her name on it that she recognized as her old diary, was a thick  linen-covered binder that had various types of fabric jutting out from under it. 

It was the fabric book that Gem had given to he r. 

Clawdeen glared at it for several seconds, frozen in place. Her hand started to tremble as her gaze lingered on the book. 

The memory of when Gem had presented her with it came back in a rush. Clawdeen remembered how excited she was, how she claimed it was samples from her “dad”’s job, how she claimed it was a token of friendship for Clawdeen and the ghouls’ kindness towards her when she first “transferred”. 

And Clawdeen had eaten it all up, amazed at all the different and rare materials she had right in her hands. Completely ignorant to the true intent that lay in those dark blue eyes and why Gem had so quickly attached herself to her. 

“ _What are friends for?”_ was what Gem had said. 

Except that was a lie. 

They were never friends. 

It was just another way to butter Clawdeen up,  to get her to let her guard down so Gem could get closer and get her trust. That way, when the time came like that fateful day, her and Striggy could swoop in and get her right where they wanted her. 

That was all she was to them. Another pawn in their game. Another target that could make them money. 

And Clawdeen had blindly bought in to all of it, without any question or any kind of doubt. Too starstruck and too fucking  _ stupid  _ to even consider that it was just one big front, to think about all the inconsistencies and impossible chances. 

Gem had seen that and had taken advantage of that. And when the time came to finally put their plan into place, she had left Clawdeen to Striggy and them all without so much as a second glance back. 

Clawdeen balled her fists tightly. 

A sudden sense of rage came over her  as she suddenly saw red. She gritted her teeth and a harsh snarl came from deep within her chest. 

Without a second thought, she lunged for the fabric book and ripped it off the shelf. Her diary slid along with it and fell to the floor. The force of it cause the shelf to wobble a little and made a few of the little trinkets she placed for decoration fall over. 

Clawdeen took no notice of any of it, too consumed in  her fury as she held the fabric book against her leg and proceeded to rip the pages out, all the while screaming. Her claws tore into the fabric samples and cut them to pieces as she yanked them out, scattering feathers and silk and satin onto the floor at her feet in pieces. 

_ It was a lie, it was all a fucking lie,  _ her mind roared as she continued screaming, tearing the pages and flinging them onto the floor. Some came away whole as they ripped clean out by the rings in the binder, while others got stuck and were thrown aside as jagged chunks. 

From downstairs, there came a pounding of feet as Harriet, Laura, and the kids suddenly rushed up, concerned at the sudden screeching. 

“Clawdeen?!” Harriet yelled out in worry. 

Clawdeen didn’t hear them. All she could think of now was the fabric book in her hands and how it stood for everything that had gone wrong in her life and how her passions and dreams were used against her. 

“ _ It was a lie _ !” she yelled, shredding a sample of  alligator skin, “A LIE! IT WAS JUST A FUCKING LIE!!!!” 

She torn away samples of Dierish elk hide and longma scales, cockatrice feathers and tanuki fur. She tore it all away, not caring of the rarity or the values that such samples could carry. 

To Clawdeen, all they meant to her was  how her life was completely and utterly ruined. They were nothing but a shred of Gem’s poison, a mockery of her talents and her goals in life and a representation of how the latter was now uprooted and thrown away because of Gem. 

“Clawdeen!” Harriet yelled out again as she appeared in the doorway. She held onto the frame, gawking with shock at the sight of the mess on the floor and the murderous look on Clawdeen’s face as she continued screaming and tearing the book to pieces. 

Behind her, Laura and the twins stood, watching Clawdeen with shock. The twins grasped Laura’s skirt in fear as they saw the manic way Clawdeen continued ripping it apart. 

“ _ SHE LIED! ALL SHE DID WAS LIE _ !” Clawdeen continued to scream, “ _ JUST. ANOTHER. FUCKING. LIE!”  _

She was crying by this point, as hot tears streamed down her cheeks and her panting was interwoven with sobs that racked her chest, but she barely noticed, too engrossed in  ridding herself of the forsaken fabric book. 

She tore the final page out, one of which that was covered in small little squares of fur, before she grasped either cover of the binder. With the strength demonstrative of of a werewolf’s might, Clawdeen ripped it in two. The backbinding of the spine immediately gave and a giant opening occurred right down the middle as the glue cracked apart. 

“FUCK!” Clawdeen screeched, throwing one piece across the room, before she whirled and threw the other in the direction of her closet. Harriet, Laura, and the twins ducked in fear of being hit with it. 

Her rage yet to be satisfied, Clawdeen turned to her desk and started grasping for anything within reach. 

“FUCKING LIAR!” she half-howled, half-cried, “Just another fucking liar!” 

She swept everything off her desk and caused it to fall onto the floor; her pencil holder landed on its side and sent pencils and pens flying, while her notebooks flapped wildly as they landed either opened or closed. Finally, Clawdeen grabbed her notebook out from under the shelf and flung it right onto the floor in front of her. 

“It was all a lie!” she sobbed, “It never meant  _ shit  _ to her! It was just-just-” 

And just like that, all the anger flew out of her. With a sob that sounded like it came from a wounded animal, Clawdeen buried her face in her hands and cried, her shoulders bouncing up and down in an almost violent manner.  She sunk to her knees among the remains of the fabric book, her cries bouncing off the walls. 

Harriet swallowed hard as she felt her own fists tighten at her sides.  The sight of Clawdeen curled up around  such a mess after such meltdown stung deeply. 

Realizing what was happening, she looked over her shoulder at Draculaura. 

“Lala, take the girls downstairs,” she ordered. 

Laura nodded without any question and bent down to grasp their hands began to lead the twins to the stairs. 

“Come on, pups,” she said, “Deenie and Mommy need a moment alone.” 

“Why is Deenie crying, though?” Packlynn asked, shooting a look at Clawdeen, “Why did she rip her book?” 

“Deenie’s just upset,” Laura said dismissively, “Now come on, let’s go back to your drawing.” 

Harriet leaned backward briefly to see them go down the stairs. Once they were out of sight, she turned back to Clawdeen. Her daughter remained on the floor,  sounding like she was dying as sharp whimpers and whines escaped her. 

Slowly, Harriet made her way to the middle of the room and knelt beside Clawdeen. Slowly, she reached out and grasped Clawdeen’s wrists to gently tug them away from her face. 

“Come on, baby, it’s okay,” she said softly, “No come on, it’s all right.” 

Clawdeen coughed and immediately pressed herself against her chest, her hands  winding in Harriet’s shirt tightly. Harriet positioned her head to rest against the crook of her neck and held her as she gently rubbed Clawdeen’s back. 

“It’s okay, shhhh,” she said as she heard her pup hiccup against her shoulder, “I’m here, my love, I’m here. Calm down, I’m here.” 

She looked around at the mess as she tried to get Clawdeen to  calm down from what sounded like a panic attack. She could see what looked to be samples of cloth, sequins, and other types of material strewn around on the carpet.  What in the name of Lycaeon had triggered such a reaction? 

After a few minutes of sharp, hard crying, Clawdeen’s sobs finally  subsided into small little mewls. She pulled away from Harriet and wiped at her eyes and nose with her shirt sleeve. 

“There, there, catch your breath,” Harriet advised, wiping Clawdeen’s cheek with her thumb. 

Clawdeen sniffled. She looked down at the remains of the fabric book,  before she turned to Harriet. 

“It...they were...it was from Gem,” she said, sounding pained as she said the last word. 

Harriet’s eyes widened. Right away, it was clear as to why Clawdeen had been so emotional over it. Internally, she felt a spark of her own anger at the thought of the fairy in question. 

_ That  _ woman hadn’t been talked about in years,  but the rage Harriet felt every time she thought of her was just as fresh as it was when they had discovered her true intentions behind her friendship with Clawdeen. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I completely forgot you had that. If I would’ve known  it was there...” 

“N-N-No, it’s okay,” Clawdeen stammered, “I-I mean, there was kinda more to worry about than a stupid book, after all.” 

She looked at the things on her desk on the floor, lowering her ears. “S-S-Sorry about that, I should’ve...I’m sorry.” 

Her ears lowered as she looked up at Harriet shyly, as if expecting to be struck for her actions. It cut Harriet deeply. 

Clawdeen turned and looked down at her feet. Her diary  lay near her soles, having fallen-pages first so now a few were bent and crumbled. 

Curious, Clawdeen reached over and grabbed it. She turned it to the cover; it was covered in sparkly stickers and had her name written in purple ink from her favorite fountain pen. Clawdeen opened it and flipped it to the page where her last entry was. Harriet looked down as well. 

The last entry was a short one, marked February sixteenth. Just three days before Gem and Striggy took her. 

“‘I’m really nervous about this meeting,” she read aloud to Harriet, “‘This will be my second time meeting with a professional designer, but (at least hopefully) the first one who doesn’t want to lock me up and work me to the bone while they steal my designs. Gem says there’s no need to nervous and the dude’s really chill, but  what if say something that makes me look like a total nonce?’ 

“‘This all feels so unreal. I feel like I’m in a dream. Well, here’s to hoping I don’t get pinched, because I don’t want to wake up,’” she concluded. 

Her hands clenched the pages tightly. What a cruel, cruel joke. 

It was no dream, how that day turned out.  Instead it was all a living nightmare. 

“Fucking...” Clawdeen muttered, shaking her head as she flung the diary away, “How could I be so fucking naive?” 

She curled up and hugged her knees to her chest,  ashamed and tired and frustrated. Harriet put a hand on her back and tried to comfort her, but nothing right now could take away the pain Clawdeen felt at that moment.


	5. Chapter 4: Ghoul in Pieces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Chapter contains flashback scenes of physical abuse and references to sexual coercion and ignored lack of consent/implicit references to rape. The last scene also has descriptions of an anxiety attack occurring.

“Oh, Clawdeen, it’s so great to see you again!” Viveka said warmly, a big smile on her face, “How have you been since you come back?”

“Fine,” Clawdeen muttered, not even looking up at her. She kept her gaze downward towards her shoes, which she kicked back and forth in a bored motion. Her arms were crossed tightly across her chest, making her huddle into her jacket like it was a turtle shell.

Viveka’s smile faltered slightly. She glanced up at Harriet; the she-wolf shot her an apologetic look, before she turned her eyes back to Clawdeen, a sad look in them. Viveka reached across and lightly patted her on the arm.

_It’ll be all right,_ she seemed to be saying with the gesture. Harriet took her hand and squeezed it in gratefulness.

Clawdeen had been home for a week,  officially. It was a weird feeling- at times, it felt like the days had gone on forever, yet at the same time it seemed each one passed by in a blur, day and night coming and going before she could so much as blink. 

It had also been two days since the whole scene in her bedroom with the fabric book, and  the atmosphere in the household had remained tense in a way that was driving her up the wall. After she had calmed down and her mom helped her to pick up the mess, Clawdeen had grabbed the pastels she had originally gone up to get and tried to resume the small talk she’d been doing with the twins as she met them back at the table, where they were sitting while Draculaura tried to keep them distracted. 

Weredith and Packlynn barely even noticed the pastels as she held them out to them, obviously still reeling and confused at her breakdown in the bedroom, and they both stared at Clawdeen for such a long time that she felt herself get uncomfortable. Her mood had quickly dampened, and though Laura managed to grab the twins’ attention by showing them various blending tricks, Clawdeen didn’t miss the way that the girls kept shooting her little looks, like they were wary of her freaking out again.

The following evening hadn’t been better;  as everyone came home and Clawdeen was called down for dinner, it was clear that either Harriet or the twins had said something about what happened, because they all kept staring at her like they were afraid of her, and Howleen and the boys asked her at least fifty times if she was okay and “to never hesitate to talk to them if she needed something.” 

They all meant well, but the constant underlying pity in their voices made Clawdeen’s skin crawl. She hated the way they kept looking at her like she was going to break, and after being asked the same thing for the fiftieth time, she had quickly excused herself from the table after she finished eating, feeling herself at the boiling point and ready to blow up if she heard that damned question one more time.

She knew they didn’t mean it, but it all made her feel like she was unstable. Like she needed someone to constantly needed to be watched over or else she’d hurt herself.  Like there was something deeply wrong with her that needed to be cured  and they could barely stand her. 

Like she couldn’t be trusted. That part stung the worst.

There was a part of her that couldn’t help but be bitter at all of it.  What did they know about being afraid? What right did they have  to treat her like she couldn’t be trusted? She’d spent the last few years constantly having to prove herself that she could be trusted to Aran and the like just so she wouldn’t be beaten on a daily basis when she did nothing wrong. She hated feeling like she had to do the same with her own family. 

After the initial anger passed, though, a sense of guilt would come over her and she would scold herself for feeling such a way. They were her family, they were just worried about her.

_It’s more than you deserve,_ another angry part of her would hiss,  _A filthy whore like you should be lucky they even wanted you back when they learned how disgusting you are. You’ll be lucky if they still want you when they just how depraved, rotten bitch you are. It’s more than you will ever deserve._

Whatever mood she was in, as the last two days went by and she realized that she hadn’t left the house at all in this time, Clawdeen could quickly begin to feel the cabin fever seep in. She knew that part of it was her own resistance in stepping out in fear that people would recognize her- she was afraid to even step out into the backyard or porch, in the event a neighbor or someone would jog by and see her and somehow know, just _know_ everything that had happened to her- but Clawdeen still felt antsy by it.

In a way, it reminded her of her time at the farmhouse, when her and the rest of the girls had been forced to just wait around and find some way to pass the time in between clients as they were left in the dark about everything else going on in the outside world. Such a thought only added to her stress.

Her mom must’ve sensed it, because all of a sudden, Clawdeen had found herself being woken up from a rough sleep- a bit of a blessing, as she’d been in the middle of another bad dream- and had cracked open an eye to see Harriet standing over her, already dressed and looking like she was ready to go to work.

“I need you get up and get ready,” Harriet said, “We have to get to your doctor’s appointment.”

Squinting, Clawdeen made a face and glanced at the calendar on the wall that Howleen had placed by her desk. She was surprised to see the date.

“That’s today, already?” she asked, groaning as she sat up and stretched; her shoulder had a terrible ache in it from where she’d slept on it wrong. Harriet couldn’t help but smile at her grumpy expression.

“Yep,” she had answered, “I thought I’d let you sleep in a little, since it’s a bit later in the morning, but now we’re really pressing time.”

Clawdeen had nodded and dragged herself out of bed to the bathroom. After she got dressed, her and Harriet and made their way to the car. They’d gone to the hospital, where a nurse took Clawdeen’s weight and height and her vital signs, before her and Harriet had been directed into a room that Clawdeen recognized as the Steins’ room that they used for all their patient check-ups.

Hence, here they were now, were now Clawdeen was face to face with Frankie’s mom, once again, after so long. Viktor had been busy in an operation, Viveka had explained, so she was going to be the one to treat Clawdeen today, she said in a cheery voice.

Clawdeen had tried to smile, but she found she couldn’t muster up much excitement right now.

“Anyway,” Viveka spoke up, picking up her chart from the examination table, “I see you were prescribed azithromycin while you were in DC.”

She glanced back at Clawdeen. “How’s that been going for you, so far? Have you noticed any changes? Any possible side effects you’re concerned about?”

Clawdeen shrugged. She mumbled, “It’s been fine. I-I mean, I _do_ notice the pain isn’t as severe. And my knees don’t look as bad anymore.”

She thought for a moment, “Though...I-I do notice my head still hurts a lot at times, and sometimes in the middle of the day I’ll get super exhausted out of nowhere. And sometimes, I...”

She trailed off as she shot Harriet a sheepish look. Harriet raised a brow at her with an expression that read somewhere along the lines of _I raised twenty kids, you think I haven’t heard this all before?_ Still, Clawdeen couldn’t help the small blush that worked its way onto her cheek as she looked back at Viveka. The green-skinned woman sat across from her, patiently waiting for her response.

“Sometimes...” Clawdeen mumbled, “I...I can’t _go._ Like, I feel like I have to, but nothing, you know...comes out.”

She looked between her mom and Viveka. “I don’t know if that’s because of the pills, though,” Clawdeen said, “Or just...you know, _me_ reacting to everything.”

Viveka nodded in understanding, “It could be a bit of both, possibly. Diarrhea and constipation are common side effects of any antibiotic due to a small disruption of the microbiome in the gut, but coming under stress can certainly exacerbate any symptoms. Not to mention, your body may still be adjusting to taking in regular levels of food again.”

She looked Clawdeen in the eye. “Correct?”

Clawdeen nodded. It was a weird feeling, having constant access to food again. Back at the farmhouse, her and the rest of the group were living on rations, as the guys had no time to prepare for their late night evacuation of the apartment complex nor had they bothered buying stuff for time once they got “settled”. The little food in the pantries had already been scarce, but it had quickly gotten to the point that Clawdeen and them had little more than crackers every single day.

Her stomach seemed to have become adjusted to the lack of fulfillment, as even though she greatly welcomed her mom and dad’s cooking and enjoyed having fresh ingredients once again, she often couldn’t finish her meal, as she’d get to a point where she suddenly felt like if she even kept on chewing she’d throw up. Sometimes she couldn’t even get halfway through a meal.

“That’s all right, though,” Viveka assured, “I’ll give you some recommendations on certain fiber supplements that should help to increase bowel movement. Just remember to keep yourself hydrated, okay?”

At the she-wolf’s small nod, Viveka gave another smile. She wrote something down on Clawdeen’s chart before she turned back to her.

“Anything else I should know, Clawdeen?” she asked, “Have you been experiencing any other problems that you think I could help you with?”

Clawdeen could feel her mother’s practically searing into her back as Clawdeen slowly shook her head. “No, t-that’s it.”

“Are you sure?” Viveka asked, “No problems with sleeping or mood swings or anything?”

_Only that some nights I’m afraid to fall asleep because I don’t want my whole family to hear me screaming like a banshee in a graveyard,_ Clawdeen thought, but still, she shook her head. 

She didn’t want to talk about her nightmares. She had a good idea if she did, that it would just mean another prescription. More pills to fuck with her body and her mind. The azithromycin at least helped relieve her abdominal symptoms, but Clawdeen was tired of  it. She didn’t want to keep swallowing drug after drug. 

Viveka’s gaze lingered on her for a minute, like she was trying to decide whether or not to believe her, but afterward she just shrugged and wrote something else on the clipboard.

“All right,” she said, “Well, other than that, you have already gained five pounds, which is wonderful progress! And your vitamin levels are definitely looking better. Your B-12 levels are still a bit lower than I’d want them, so I’d say just incorporate foods with that into your diet more regularly, like eggs, milk, and beef. And of course, there’s always multivitamins you can get from the drugstore.” 

S he looked between Harriet and Clawdeen. “Anything else?” 

“No,” Clawdeen said faintly, bouncing her leg up and down anxiously. She wanted to get out of here.

“No, I think that’s it,” Harriet said, “Thanks again, Viv.”

“Oh, don’t thank me, I’m just doing my job,” Viveka said. She looked back at Clawdeen.

“It was lovely seeing you again, Deenie, and I hope you’re recovery continues to go well,” she added.

Clawdeen looked at her out of the corner of her eye.  How much did she know? She wondered. She knew that Dr. Yokai had said they’d transferred the records they’d created of her over to New Salem so they could be on file , but she considered if either of them had had a chance to read any of it yet? What would it say, anyway? Would it talk about all her old scars and burns that the police had found in their examination? Would it make any mention of all the evidence of the rapes she’d endured? 

Just thinking about it made her feel like someone had punched her in the stomach. Clawdeen quickly got to her feet. She needed some fresh air.

“T-Thank you, Mrs. Stein,” she said. 

Viveka gave another nod before she stood up. “Here, I’ll lead you two out.”

As they made their way back to the car, Clawdeen and Harriet were both silent. Clawdeen could tell her mom wanted to say something, though. She could feel her shooting little looks at Clawdeen out her peripheral.

They remained quiet as they climbed into the truck and buckled themselves in. Harriet put the key in the ignition, but didn’t turn it.  Instead, she put her hands on the steering wheel and stared ahead for a few minutes, lost in her own thoughts. 

Clawdeen turned to her and gave her a confused look. “Mom?” she called out.

Harriet remained quiet. Finally, she took a deep breath and sighed, before she faced Clawdeen herself.

“There’s something we need to talk about,” she said.

A pit opened up in Clawdeen’s stomach. She shifted in her seat, already dreading whatever words were about to come out of the elder she-wolf’s mouth. Still, she nodded as a sign for her to go on.

Harriet took another deep breath and let it out. She closed her eyes for a minute and opened them again. When she spoke, she wouldn’t look at Clawdeen, instead keeping her gaze forward at the rest of the parking lot.

“Your father and I signed you up for a therapist,” she stated.

It took a minute for the words to sink in. At first, Clawdeen just gaped at her, clearly not expecting such a comment. She quickly pulled herself together, though, and immediately went stiff, the pit in her stomach quickly growing to what felt like a black hole. Her hackles rose so quickly it felt like someone had just dropped an ice cube down her shirt.

“ _No,”_ she said right away. 

“Clawdeen-” Harriet began.

“No,” the auburn haired wolf repeated, “I-I won’t go. I...I don’t _need_ a-a shrink, I don’t need-” 

“Yes, you do,” Harriet said, “And you _will_ go.” 

Clawdeen looked up at her, her eyes pleading. Harriet didn’t look angry, though. In fact, she looked sad as she gazed upon her. Her matching citrine eyes were soft and patient.

“You need to talk to _someone_ , Deenie,” she explained, “About all of this. What happened to you...this isn’t something you can just get over and move on with. And it’s clear you’re not coping well, with it. That whole thing with the fabric book proves it. Your father and I know that you’re always on edge- especially around him and the boys- we know you cry whenever you’re alone, and even though had Viveka fooled, we know about the nightmares.” 

Clawdeen felt her ears lowered as her heart sunk. The night that Howleen’d been forced to wake her up replayed in her head; Clawdeen forced her to promise she wouldn’t tell anyone about it, but she knew there was always a chance everyone had overheard. They did have advanced hearing as wolves, after all.

Still, though, the idea of a therapist terrified her. To sit in some cramped, tiny little room, being forced to reveal the deepest, darkest, most intimate details of her unlife to  a total stranger  who probably couldn’t even give two shits about her and was only there to collect a check? The thought alone made her nauseous. 

She could barely even trust being the same room with her own father after so long of men’s touch being that to only use her. How would she be able to stand being alone with someone she didn’t even know, let alone tell them all her secrets and the worst experiences she’d had?

“Can’t...can’t I just tell you?” she asked in a small voice, “I mean, can’t I just talk to you o-or Dad or Leena? Why do I have to go see someone? I-I mean, you guys at least _understand_ to a degree...” 

Harriet smiled at her. It was one full of sadness.  She reached across the dash and cupped Clawdeen’s cheek. 

“You can _always_ talk to me,” she said, “But honey, your father and I, your brothers and sisters...we _can’t_ help you with this. Not entirely. This runs on a deeper psychological level that neither of us can understanding nor do either of us have the tools to be able to properly help you. 

“You need someone who can help you how to properly deal with and make sense of these emotions and these experiences you’ve had,” Harriet continued, “We as the family don’t have that; hell, me and your father are both well aware the way _we_ sometimes handle our own feelings or problems isn’t always the healthiest. I can’t be sure that one of us won’t say something that may end up making things worse or having a negative affect on you in the long run. This isn’t exactly a situation that happens to everyone on a regular basis.” 

She gave Clawdeen a look. “And,” she continued, “I’d think that if you felt comfortable enough to come to me or Dad about what you went through back in that city, that you would’ve  _already_ come to us, don’t you think?” 

Clawdeen  hunched her shoulders up. Her eyes slid down to her lap. Her mom had a point. 

She couldn’t tell them, though. If they knew the kinds of things she’d done- for Aran, for the customers, for herself- the things she’d said and the actions she’d performed and the things she let happen, they’d abandon her. They’d see she was  unworthy, that she was beyond hope, that she wasn’t worth their time-

“Clawdeen!” Harriet suddenly spoke up sharply.

She jumped a little at the volume of her mother’s voice and looked back at her sheepishly, realizing she had started to lose herself again.

A flash of pain crossed Harriet’s features. Her lips thinned into a straight line that looked somewhat like a grimace, and her  thumb reached up to slowly caress Clawdeen’s cheek. Clawdeen closed her eyes and pressed herself against her hand, the small touch soothing to her.

“How about this?” she said gently, “Just try it out at least a few times. Clawrk and me will both go with you the first day. We’ll even see if we can stay in the room with you, if you want. If you feel like the therapist isn’t the right one, we’ll find another one, and if it doesn’t seem like it’s working, you won’t have to go anymore. Sound okay?”

“Okay,” Clawdeen answered in a small voice, “...When do I start?” 

“Two weeks from today,” Harriet confirmed.

Clawdeen thought back to the day’s events, and as it all sunk in, she suddenly felt tears come to her eyes. 

This wasn’t where she was supposed to be, no w. This wasn’t supposed to be  _her_ unlife. 

Harriet sensed her distress and undid her seatbelt, before she slowly scooted over in her seat towards her.

“Come here, sweetie,” she called softly, holding her arms out to pull Clawdeen into a hug. Clawdeen welcomed it and pressed her cheek against her chest, taking a chance to deeply inhale her scent. 

“It’ll be good for you, you’ll see,” Harriet assured her, “They’re there to help.”

“I know,” Clawdeen murmured, though she still had doubts.

She had a hard time believing that any of these shrinks that her parents had found had ever come across a case like hers. What if it was too much for her and it turned out they didn’t help after all? Hell, what if it was too much for the  _therapist?_ Sure, they were trained to deal with a lot of dark shit, but even they had had to have their limits at some point. 

* * *

They headed home, both quietly listening to the radio that played. Halloween was coming up, so a lot of songs that were playing tended to be folk songs that sung of the plight of monsters during the Old World as they hid from humans, or darkwave and goth rock in which singers  boasted about taking pride in one’s beastly nature. Clawdeen tried to listen along as she looked out the window, noting some shops and restaurants around New Salem that were obviously recent. 

As Harriet pulled into the driveway, they could see Clawrk and Clawd’s cars pulled up.  They walked in through the front door to find the two of them, Laura, and Howleen at the dining room table. Clawd and Clawrk were currently eating burgers and had fountain drinks at their sides as a bag of Booise’s Best sat between them. 

“I thought you were working today?” Harriet asked Clawd, setting her purse on the kitchen island as her and Clawdeen approached. 

“Got off early,” Clawd said as he took a bite of some fries, before he chased it down with some soda.

“And the twins?” 

“Down for a nap,” Clawrk answered this time through mouthful of food. He turned in his seat and smiled at the girls, sliding his arm around Harriet’s waist as she bent down to kiss him. 

“Hey,” he greeted, looking towards Clawdeen as she came up to him, “How did it go? Everything good?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Clawdeen answered as she gave him a hug, “Viveka says there’s nothing out of the ordinary, so I guess that’s good.”

She pulled back and went around the table to hug Laura and Howleen.  Howleen smiled and pulled a plastic bag from her purse to hold out to her. It was a twist-tie bag filled with sour gummy bears. 

“The candy store near the inn was having a sale to celebrate their ten year anniversary,” she said, “I got some bags for everyone.”

“Maybe later,” Clawdeen said as she brushed passed her to get to Clawd, “I should probably eat lunch first. If I have some now, my teeth will feel nasty.”

“Dad and I bought some extra burgers if you want any,” Clawd offered as he stood up from his seat to greet her, “We thought you and Mom would be home around this time.” 

Clawdeen allowed him to pull her into a sideways hug. She looked down at the bag  as Clawrk held it out for her. Inside, she could smell cooked meat and cheese and the fresh scent of still-hot fries. Harriet herself had sat down beside Clawrk and helped herself to a burger. 

“I don’t know,” Clawdeen answered, “I haven’t really been in the mood for junk food lately-”

Her nose caught a sudden whiff of something and she froze against Clawd.

Somewhere nearby, underneath the strong smells of fast food and grease, she smelled  something else. Something that had nothing to do with food. It was a strong,  earthy scent  that had a strong presence of alcohol in it, with some hints of musk and basil in it. 

Clawdeen recognized this smell instantly.

Aran wore this exact same fragrance of cologne every day.

Her heart started to race,  she started to tremble, her palms grew clammy with sweat. Her breathing started to grow shallow. The world started to feel like it was tilting around her. 

Feeling her suddenly stiffen, Clawd looked down at her in confusion. Her face had suddenly become pallid and she looked like she was about to throw up.

“Clawdeen?” he called, “Hey, what’s up?”

They all turned to her, surprised at the sudden change in demeanor. Clawdeen started to make small, pained whines as she stared out into space, like she had been injured.

“Clawdeen? Honey?” Harriet said, getting out of her seat. Laura looked up at her friend and grabbed her wrist in concern. She could feel Clawdeen’s pulse beating wildly against her fingers.

Clawdeen didn’t hear them. As she breathed in more of that familiar scent, her mind took her away from this current place  and dropped her off somewhere else deep her mind.  Memories took over her and forced her to relive them, leaving her unable to escape…

* * *

“ _D-D-Daddy,” Clawdeen whimpered as she squirmed against the couch, “N-No. No, please, n-not tonight...”_

_She raised her hands and lightly pushed them against Aran’s chest. Aran grabbed hold of her wrists and pinned them above her head, keeping her restrained against the cushions. She wept beneath him, letting out a loud whine as he grabbed the hem of her top and pushed it up so he exposed her bra, before he started to mess with the clasp at the front._

“ _Daddy, no,” she cried, “P-P-Please, just this once, no...”_

“ _Shhh, relax, I’ll be gentle,” Aran muttered as he undid the clasp and tugged the cups to either side, exposing her chest to him, “Just let me do all the work. I’ll make you feel real nice and good.”_

“ _N-N-No,” Clawdeen begged, finding no comfort in his soft words._

_She turned and sobbed into her arm as he continued to pull her free of her clothes. The heavy smell of his arousal mixed with the woodsy cologne he wore, which pervaded her nostrils and made her stomach churn. The threat of vomit tickled at the back of her throat._

_Aran reached under the back of her head and threaded his fingers through her hair. He forced her head up and dove down to kiss her. Clawdeen made a noise of protest and tried to pull away, only for Aran to tighten his hold on her hair and force her to stay turned to him. Tears leaked down the werewolf’s face as she was forced to reciprocate and feel his tongue in her mouth._

_They broke apart and Aran sat up. He grabbed one of her hands and placed it near his belt, his bright blue gaze intense as he looked down at her lustfully._

“ _Suck me off,” he ordered, “Undo my jeans and suck my dick.”_

_Clawdeen sobbed. She felt humiliated and disgusted from where she lay under him. He was straddling her midsection, leaving her trapped._

_The measly bit of resistance she felt died out at the order. She knew better to disobey him. Clawdeen bit her lip hard enough that her fangs threatened to slice through her flesh._

“ _Y-Yes, Daddy,” she choked out._

_Turning her teary gaze to his pants, she reached up with shaking hands and began to unbuckle his belt._

* * *

“Clawdeen? Clawdeen, h-hey! What’s going on with you?” Clawd questioned.

He pulled away and grasped her shoulders, a trickle of fear starting to drip down his spine as his sister failed to respond to him. Clawdeen looked like she was about to faint. Laura stood up from her chair and put a hand against her back as Howleen and their parents came over.

Something flickered in Clawdeen’s eyes and she snapped out of it. She stared at Clawd, her bright yellow eyes big and round like a porcelain doll’s as they filled with terror. It hurt him dearly to see such a look in her eyes; it wasn’t a look he recognized on Clawdeen at all.

Clawdeen looked around at them. They all regarded her warily, like they were waiting for something dramatic to happen. Forcing the memory to the back of her mind, Clawdeen grabbed Clawd’s hands and forced them away.

“I-I-I’m fine,” she answered in a small voice, “S-Sorry, just got reminded of something really quick. J-Just got a little spooked is all.”

She gave Clawd a strained smile that was obviously so fake it looked like it was actually hurting her to do so. Clawd continued to look at her with a mix of confusion and worry.

“Y-You smell n-nice,” she stammered, “I-I-Is that a new cologne?”

Clawd blinked, clearly not expecting the question. “Uh...y-yeah, it is. ‘Woodsland Wonder’, I think it’s called. Um, maybe you should-”

“Good, great,” Clawdeen interrupted, “T-That’s probably it. Just g-got a little overwhelmed by it, you know?”

She turned to them and pointed towards the stairs as she pulled away from him.

“I-I-I think I’m gonna go take a shower,” she said, “I feel a l-little gross, you know?”

“Clawdeen,” Clawrk said with worry, “Maybe you should sit down for a minute-”

“I’m fine,” Clawdeen replied with a bit more urgency, “Just got too much of the scent at once. I-It happens.”

Before anyone could object to her, she quickly slipped behind Laura and Howleen and rushed out of the dining room. She practically tripped over herself as she bolted up the stairs and ran into her room. She dashed into the bathroom and slammed the door shut, pressing herself against it.

Clawdeen closed her eyes and stayed there, taking a moment to catch her breath. It was a battle of wills as she struggle to fight back against the slew of memories that her mind tried to fling at her with her catching the smell of Clawd’s cologne. Images flashed in her vision and sounds echoed in her mind.

_Aran smelling heavily of cologne as he slammed her against the wall, his hand gripping her throat and cutting off her oxygen...Aran smelling like musk and basil as he grabbed Clawdeen by the hair and threw her to the floor, yelling about something or other as he ripped out the cord from the lamp and beat her with it...Aran’s cologne wafting in her nose as he pressed Clawdeen up against him, his hand slipping under her skirt and earning a moan of pleasure from Clawdeen, who gripped his shoulders as her tongue slid together with his..._

“Stop...” Clawdeen said, putting her hands against her ears as if it could block it out, “Stop it...”

She clenched her eyelids shut. Brightly colored blobs danced behind them. The world felt like it was spinning. She was only vaguely aware of the cold tile of the bathroom floor seeping into her legs from where her bare knees peaked out from under the white capris pants she wore.

It felt like an eternity before she could think straight again. Slowly, Clawdeen took her ears away and opened her eyes. At some point, she had sunk down to the floor, and her knees ached from being pressed against the tile.

Clawdeen swallowed and stay there for a minute, letting her arms fall at her sides in a defeated way. She stared at a small crack in the baseboards, thinking back to what had just happened downstairs.

She had really just freaked out over fucking cologne. Great.

How more pathetic could she get?

Tears of frustration came to her eyes, but Clawdeen blinked them away and stood back up. She turned and looked in the mirror at herself.

She looked rough. Her face was tight with tiredness and her cheeks looked sunken in. Her skin tone looked like a vampire had sucked all the blood right out of her.

Turning away from the mirror for a moment, Clawdeen pulled back the curtain on the shower and turned the water on. She didn’t bother to check how warm it was and left it on some random setting as she started to remove her clothes.

Her body didn’t look much better. Her hipbones and clavicles jutted out against her skin. Her thinness made her look sickly and starving. She twisted her body. The tattoos on her arm and back looked like ugly black mold on her skin. Her fur was patchy and thin. Her scars made her look like she had a bad case of ringworm.

Stiffly, Clawdeen pulled away and stepped into the shower, pulling the curtain shut behind her. She stood under the spray, allowing the water to soak her fur and her hair as she gazed blankly at the wall in front of her.

Her movements were robotic as she reached for the shampoo and started lathering up her hair. As she stood back under to wash it out, her thoughts drifted back to the conversation she had earlier with her mom, when Harriet revealed that they had signed her up for therapy.

That led her to thinking back to the reaction that had just occurred. Clawdeen’s hands slowly pulled away from her hair as her brows furrowed in despair.

Her mom insisted therapy would help her. But for a therapist to work, she’d have to talk to them. She’d have to reveal why she felt this guilt, this fear, this _shame._ They would prod her, question her, try to peel her back so they could see what she hid on the inside.

Peel back the layers and see just what a disgusting, vile, wretched person she really was.

Clawdeen suddenly felt a lump in her throat.

Before she could help herself, the memories she’d just been trying to keep away came back at her, consuming her as she stood under the shower head. This time, she had no strength to keep them at bay as they forced her to relive the kind of person she had allowed herself to become.

Make her remember just how weak and pathetic and truly worthless she really was.

Her right hand curled against her chest. Clawdeen gripped it with her left one, feeling the scars there that rested on the back of her hand, an inch or so below her knuckles. The memory of how she’d gotten them was as clear as a cloudless sky.

* * *

“ _Selena, just what were you doing yesterday, when I wasn’t there?”_

_Clawdeen looked at Aran, surprised. They had just stepped outside the apartment complex so she could be driven to her first client of the day. When Aran arrived that morning, Clawdeen had given him the money for her quota from the night before, which he counted as she got ready._

_Before they left, though, Aran had insisted on having a cigarette. Clawdeen couldn’t see why he couldn’t just smoke as they drove, but didn’t dare question him, hence the two of them standing outside her door, leaning against the wall as the satyr lit one._

“ _I-I was working, Daddy,” she answered, “Just like the rest of the g-ghouls.”_

“ _Oh, yeah?” Aran said as he took another drag. He let it blow out and flicked some ashes away as he turned to look at her, his icy blue eyes like a viper’s as they stared at her through his messy curtain of strawberry curls._

“ _Then how come you’re short three hundred and seventy-five dollars?” he asked._

_Clawdeen paused. Somewhere deep in her chest, there was a part of her that went cold at his words. “W-W-What?”_

“ _Three hundred and seventy-five dollars,” Aran said, getting off the wall to face her, holding his cigarette in his hand, “You’re short by that much. You didn’t make your quota for the night.”_

_He took a step forward so that he was now standing in front of her, blocking her view from the rest of the street. Clawdeen took an unconscious step back. Instantly, she felt fear grab hold of her like a giant’s grip as she reluctantly stared up at him; she knew what was bound to come._

“ _That’s not a lot of money to get in a night,” Aran said as he looked down at her, “That’s, what? Less than even one hour of a screw with a guy? You could’ve easily just waited around for one last dude and be done with it._

“ _What were you thinking?” he inquired, “You decided you didn’t want to do your work and would just fuck off with the rest of the night? That you were too much a princess and wanted your beauty sleep?”_

_His tone was soft, but the words were laced with poisonous accusations._

“ _N-N-N-No!” Clawdeen exclaimed, “No, Daddy, t-that’s not what it was about at all! I-I just, I-I thought I had made enough! I thought I_ did _meet my quota!”_

“ _There’s a big difference between three and over three hundred, Selena,” Aran shot back, “Did you even bother to count it out?”_

“ _I did, Daddy, I did, I did!” Clawdeen insisted, “I-I counted even more than once, I-I swore I had counted out enough, I...I swore I did...”_

_She shrunk under Aran’s harsh gaze. As she said it, she realized how pathetic and stupid of an excuse it sounded._

_Aran, however, didn’t look angry. He just looked down at his feet and sighed, before he reached out to take her hand. He looked back up at Clawdeen with disappointment._

“ _You know, I don’t ask for much from you,” he said, “All I ever expect is that you be a good ghoul, do as I say, and go out and get your work done. Isn’t that all I ask of you?”_

_Clawdeen felt her lip trembled as she answered, “Y-Y-Yes, Daddy. I-I’m sorry, I swear, i-it won’t happen again.”_

_Aran shook his head. “Things like this aren’t really that complicated, Selena. It’s a very childish mistake, to miscount such a large lump sum of money. Now you’ve put yourself in debt.”_

_This time, Clawdeen couldn’t find her voice to answer him. She just stared at him, whimpering, afraid of what he was going to do._

_She got her answer as Aran, never once breaking eye contact with her, suddenly frowned and jabbed the lit end of his cigarette right onto the back of her hand._

“ _AAAGH!” Clawdeen screamed as hot, fiery pain shot up through the nerves of her hand and ran up the whole length of her arm to her shoulder. She tried to rip her hand away, but Aran clamped down on it in an iron-like vice, sneering at her as he pressed the cigarette further into her skin._

_Her knees buckled beneath her as she knelt, sobbing as her hand throbbed in agony._

“ _DADDY! Daddy, STOP!” she begged, “PLEASE, STOP! IT HURTS!”_

_Aran didn’t listen. He took the cigarette away and jammed it on another spot right below the first one. He looked down at the screaming werewolf with a cold stare. It looked like quite a scene, Clawdeen literally on her knees and howling up a storm as Aran burned her. Her screams echoed through the parking lot and had to at least go a few blocks, but nobody came rushing out to see what the commotion was._

_Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, Aran took the cigarette away and released Clawdeen’s hand. She immediately drew the injured appendage to her chest and cradled it. She sobbed at the throbbing ache that engulfed her hand. It felt like it was throbbing in time with her pulse._

“ _Tonight, you’re not to step foot back on this property until you make up for your mistake,” Aran said harshly as he flicked the cigarette away, “Today AND the money you missed for last night. I don’t care if you have to blow fifty guys until five am, you’re going to do your work and fucking screw around! Got it?!”_

“ _Y-Y-Yes!” Clawdeen sobbed, “Y-Yes, Daddy, I will!”_

_She suddenly cried out as Aran’s palm cracked against her cheek. Her head whipped to the side with the force of it as the skin there lit up bright red and stung._

“ _Get up, we have work to do,” Aran demanded as he walked passed her, “Stupid bitch.”_

_Clawdeen sniffled and got to her feet, adjusting her dress and grabbing her purse._

“ _Y-Yes, Daddy,” she said in a small voice, before she turned around to follow him._

* * *

Clawdeen absentmindedly traced the circumference of the scars with her finger, feeling the rigid and rough skin. She kept staring at the wall, her expression crumbling into one of anguish as more memories came to her.

Her arms crossed against her chest as one in particular came to mind and she held herself as she was forced to relive the experience…

* * *

“ _There, doesn’t she look **gorgeous**?” Aran said as he turned and saw her walk out the bathroom. _

_Clawdeen blushed despite herself. “D-Does this satisfy you, sir?” she asked._

_It had been the end of the night, and Clawdeen was just about to get ready for bed. Right as she turned to take her dress off, though, Aran had suddenly showed up, looking surprisingly chipper as he announced that he had a gift for her and presented her with a small blue box that couldn’t have been from anywhere but Tiffany’s._

_Inside had been a brilliant set of a rose gold necklace with a heart-shaped garnet pendant and matching drop earrings, all lined with diamonds, which he told her to try on._

“ _More than that,” Aran smiled as he eyed how the necklace rested at a good length above her bust, “You look like a movie star with those on.”_

_Clawdeen smiled bashfully. “I-I’m glad I can make you happy, Daddy.”_

_Aran continued to marvel at her, his eyes roaming her figure from head to toe as he took in the short gold long-sleeved plunge wrap dress she was wearing. The look in his eyes was so soft and warm and he looked sincerely happy, Clawdeen couldn’t help but melt. She secretly hoped there would be nothing to ruin this mood._

_It seemed luck was on her side tonight as Aran turned his gaze back to her and held out his arms._

“ _Come here,” he commanded softly._

_Clawdeen obeyed him without a second thought and gladly walked over to him, snuggling into his chest as he embraced her._

“ _You’re so beautiful,” Aran muttered, lifting her chin to gaze into her eyes, “Like a goddess...”_

_He trailed his fingers down her jaw to her neck. Clawdeen cooed in delight and even tilted her head back to further welcome the touch. Aran smiled in satisfaction at her response and slid his hand to cup the back of her neck, bringing her face closer to his so he could kiss her._

_And, in an act that only a few years prior would’ve disgusted her in her willingness to comply, Clawdeen eagerly kissed him back._

_She moaned as he wantonly pressed her body tighter against his and her arms slid around his neck to deepen it, before she earned her own groan from Aran as their tongues twirled against one another._

_A trail of saliva connected them as Aran broke apart from her and gazed at her with eyes that were glassy and dark with lust._

“ _Do you want me?” he asked huskily as his hands trailed up to rub her breasts through her dress._

“ _Y-Yes,” Clawdeen responded, mewling at the arousing touch._

“ _Tell me.”_

“ _I want you,” she complied, “I want you. O-O-Oh, please, Master, t-touch me...”_

_Their hands roamed each other’s bodies as they tugged at each other’s clothes and tossed them onto the floor, pleasuring one another with their hands and their mouths. Once they were both left in only their bare skin, Aran lay Clawdeen against the dirty old mattress and hovered above her._

_Clawdeen moaned as he touched her and arched her back as sparks of heat bloomed in her most intimate areas._

“ _Yeah, does that feel good?” Aran murmured, smiling at the way she gave in to him. Clawdeen nodded frantically, eager to feel him and feel herself reach paradise._

_Without any hesitance of disgust at herself as she would’ve felt when she first came her, she gasped, “Y-Yes, yes. I love you, I love you, Master, o-oh please, please, y-y-yes...”_

* * *

Clawdeen pressed her thighs together. One arm draped across her chest while the other slid down to cover the apex between her legs like someone was going to see her. The water was still relatively warm, but she trembled under it like it had freezing.

Salty tears stung at her eyes and ran down her cheeks in streams, mixing in and becoming hidden with the spray of the shower as shame burned deep inside her like a hot coal as she thought back to that night.

All those times she’d given in to him on her own free will. That she said she loved him without any sort of pretending. Clawdeen felt disgusted; there’d been no threat of force those times, or desperation on her end to keep him happy. That night, and many others before and after, she’d come to Aran willingly, allowed him to touch her, to take her, to _make_ her feel like things would be all right, as if he didn’t end up beating or berating her the very next day.

Clawdeen’s breath hitched. She shook with more force as she hugged herself again.

What kind of therapist would want to help a stupid, filthy, ugly whore like her?

She had nothing left that hadn’t been stolen or violated or worn down. Her body was a scarred, violated ruin of a temple that had seen numerous people, far more than she could even remember, some that not even she could know about. The “skills” she had developed were nothing more than sick, twisted, perverted tools in order to keep the various men and women who had her happy, to get them aroused and get them to cum as they used her however they liked.

Her skin was desecrated with scars and sorry excuses for tattoos that hadn’t been done of her own consent. Her mind a jumbled mess that jumped at every little thing like a frightened house cat and kept her up at night with its wild imagination. Her womb now nothing more than a roughened and rotting wasteland from her sickness. _Their_ sickness. They made her sick. Made her disgusting. Made her pathetic.

Perverted.

Polluted.

Useless.

_Worthless._

Unaware, her breathing started to quicken. Her pulse picked up and there was a painful tightening feeling in her chest, like something had been pressing down on her very heart. The water was starting to go tepid, but Clawdeen felt her skin flash between hot and cold.

She couldn’t breath. She couldn’t breathe, _she couldn’t fucking breathe._ Clawdeen started to wheeze, numb to everything around her except the chaos going on in her brain.

_Worthless,_ it threw at her,  _worthless, worthless, worthless-_

“... _deen?”_

Was someone calling her? It was as if she were underwater, or her ears had been filled with cotton. Her hands grasped her throat as she felt her intake of oxygen grow smaller and smaller. Her throat was closing up.

A sudden series of hard knocks pounded on the door.

“ _Clawdeen!”_ Clawd’s voice suddenly yelled from outside the bathroom door, “ _Hey! You okay in there?! Open up!”_

There was a rattling sound as she heard him jostle with the doorknob.

Clawdeen seized up. The panic she felt increased to drastic levels when she realized he was trying to come in.

_No._ If he came in, he’d see her naked. Another man, seeing her exposed like this, seeing her weakened and afraid. She’d have nowhere to go, no way to fight back. She  was in no state to face off against anyone. 

Her heart started beating so fast it felt like that it was about to explode. Her head went fuzzy and she felt sick.  A bunch of other memories suddenly came to light:

* * *

_She squealed in surprise and spun around, her hands crossing over her chest to cover her bust as a hand suddenly grabbed hold of the shower curtain and yanked it aside. Aran stood outside the shower, a sinister grin on his face as he caught sight of her naked form._

“ _Well, good morning,” he said, reaching over and turning off the water. Clawdeen stayed frozen in place, all too aware of her exposed state and the way he was looking at her._

_Aran’s gaze turned more sinister. He ripped off his coat and dropped it on the floor, before he stepped into the bathtub._

“ _D-D-Daddy,” Clawdeen begged as he turned her around and pressed her against the wall, “N-No, please. N-No, please, stop! Stop, please-!”_

* * *

“N-N-No!” Clawdeen finally managed to yell out, “D-Don’t come in! Stay out-!” 

She heard the door turn and fly open. Clawd’s personal scent hit her as he stepped in, looking towards the shower in concern. 

_He’s getting closer,_ Clawdeen thought. Her hysteria reached peak levels and stole her breath. 

_He’s going to see me._

_No, no, no, nononononono **NO.**_

“Clawdeen?” Clawd called out as he started to approach, his eyes wide with worry, “Are you all right?! Your breathing was sounding-” 

“GET OUT, CLAWD!” he heard Clawdeen scream at the top of her lungs. 

He paused in place, shocked at the high-pitched, desperate tone of her voice. Clawdeen sounded absolutely terrified. 

“D-D-Deenie-” 

“ _GET OUT!”_ Clawdeen continued to scream from behind the curtain, “ _GET OUT! GET OUT NOW!”_

In her blind panic, she grabbed the nearest object by her- the large bottle of bubble bath meant for the kids- and tossed it over the shower bar. Clawd yelped as it suddenly came flying towards him and held his hands up in defense; the giant pink plastic bottle  collided painfully with his elbow and scattered onto the floor. 

“ _GET OUT! GET OUT, LEAVE ME ALONE!”_ Clawdeen shrieked, grabbing wildly for anything to get him away- she wouldn’t let him see her body, not one more man would lay his eyes on her, not _one more, “GET OUT! GO!_ GET _! **OUT!”**_

Bath products, razors, and bath toys came flying out from over the curtain. Clawd quickly dodged the various projectiles and ran back towards the door. He looked back towards the shower, visibly shaken by Clawdeen’s sudden behavior.

“S-S-Sorry!” he exclaimed, “I-I thought you needed help-”

“Get out!” Clawdeen yelled, hysterical, “Just get out already!”

The final straw snapped and she buried her face in her hands. Her sobs echoed loudly in the bathroom as she sunk to her knees on the floor of the bathtub. The shower continued to soak her, though now the water had since lost its warmth and became freezing cold. Clawdeen didn’t notice; she just cried, now lost to the anxiety attack as it consumed her.

Clawd backed out of the bathroom and shut the door behind him. He stared at it with a stunned look on his face, listening to Clawdeen break down on the other side.

He’d come upstairs to talk to Clawdeen about her reaction downstairs- he had a great feeling the cologne he’d been wearing had a lot more meaning to her behind it other than just the scent having too much kick- but just as he was about to knock, he could hear her from the other side over the sound of the water running. She had sounded like she was hyperventilating.

But then, suddenly, Clawdeen was screaming at him and telling him to get out and throwing things at him.

She sounded like she feared for her life.

That she feared _him._

His ears lowered. Clawd swallowed hard, a sudden pang of guilt in his chest.

He turned as he heard his mom, Draculaura, and Howleen race up the stairs. They all appeared at the top of the banister, their eyes wide with alarm.

“What the hell happened?!” Harriet questioned, “I was just waving to your dad as he pulled out, and suddenly we heard screaming!”

Clawdeen winced, feeling the guilt worsen. He pointed sheepishly at the bathroom door.

“I-I-I just wanted to talk to her about the cologne,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically small, “S-She...she sounded like she needed help, I-I didn’t know she’d react like that...”

The girls looked to the door. From inside, they could all hear Clawdeen sobbing and gasping loudly in the shower. Her breathing was rapid and sounded like that of an air bump being used on a bicycle, like she couldn’t get enough air and keep it in long enough.

A look of understanding seemed to come over Harriet’s features. Her mouth straightened into a thin line. She hurriedly came forward and brushed past Clawd as she grasped the doorknob, before she knocked.

“Clawdeen? Honey?” she said loudly, “I’m coming in, okay?”

Clawdeen didn’t answer. She just continued to cry.

Without sparing another glance towards Clawd or the girls, she hurriedly opened the door and headed into the bathroom, shutting the door right afterward and locking it. A moment later, Clawd could hear her pull back the shower curtain and turn off the water.

“ _Shhhh, it’s all right,”_ he heard his mother say as Clawdeen continued to cry heavily.

A lump appeared in his throat and tears pricked his eyes.

“Clawd?” Draculaura stated.

He turned back to the side to see her and Howleen slowly approach. She was looking up at him with concern, while Howleen kept her gaze glued to the door, her brows furrowed with pertubation. Clawd could feel the guilt eat at him.

“I...” he stated, “I just thought...she needed help. I-I didn’t mean to, to scare her...”

His voice sounded like it was going to crack. He stared at Laura desperately, as if afraid that she wouldn’t believe him. His lip trembled as he felt his own sudden need for crying.

Laura’s face softened as she saw the guilt in his eyes. She approached him and reached for his hands, tugging on them lightly to pull him into a hug. Though he towered over her by at least two feet, Clawd practically collapsed into her. He trembled against her.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked thickly, “I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to...”

“Shhh,” Laura said this time, rubbing his back, “I know you didn’t.”

She turned her head as she heard Howleen burst into tears. The younger Wolf sister wiped at her eyes, smearing her eyeliner and leaving thick black smudges on the sleeves of her distressed sweater, though it was in vain as she only cried harder.

“She just seems so lost,” Howleen wept, “S-S-S-She used to be so strong and confident about herself, a-a-and now it’s like she d-doesn’t even know what to do anymore. T-T-They took that from her, they took _everything_ from her...”

She balled her fists at her sides and hung her head as she continued to cry. Draculaura reached out her arm to grab her by the wrist and pulled her against her as well, allowing her and Clawd to both cry on her as she tried to comfort them. They held onto her tightly as if they were little pups again.

In the bathroom, Laura could hear Harriet seemingly finally calm Clawdeen down. Her sobs lessened, before Harriet could be heard gently commanding to watch her step, presumably helping Clawdeen out of the tub so she could get dressed.

They were all hurting and confused and nobody knew what to do. They were all equally lost like Clawdeen; lost on what to do and how to handle all of it.

For now, Draculaura did what she knew was all she could do: Be there to comfort them and advise them. Let them know she was a shoulder to cry on and someone they could all talk to if they were unsure or overwhelmed by it all.

And hopefully, they could get through this. Because she didn’t know what kinds of disasters awaited them if they couldn’t.


	6. Chapter 5: The Long Road to Recovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I am not a therapist nor have I ever been to therapy, so if anything Dr. Pawz says seems unrealistic or unprofessional, that's why.

“You can go ahead if you want Clawdeen, there’s no rush at all.”

Clawdeen shifted in her seat, a bit uncomfortable. She looked down at her shoes for a moment, before she shyly turned her gaze back up.

“I...I don’t know what you want me to say,” she said.

Dr. Pawz smiled softly at her, “You can say anything you want. This is our first session, so no pressure.”

Clawdeen looked at her doubtfully. Dr. Pawz continued to sit the chair across from her, waiting patiently for her to talk as she sat with one leg cross over the other, her hands folded in her lap. A notepad and pen were open on the small little table next to her.

When her dad was driving her here this morning, Clawdeen really didn’t know what to expect of this oncoming therapy session and the person she was assigned to. Her first thought was some little creepy looking concrete building that housed a cramped white room with ugly, plain furniture with some stone-faced monster waiting in the room who’d hound her on spilling her guts while constantly reminding her that they were running out of time, or who’d tell her some bullshit about how it was all in her head or to focus on the “positive” now that she was out on her own.

Instead, she was surprised to see Clawrk drive them to some place that was a bit out in the wilderness, away from the main road that led into the cities, to a building that looked almost like a log cabin at first glance. There was a variety of wildflowers being grown in the garden and even a small fountain in the front yard. The inside had a paisley-patterned rug being thrown over the shag carpet and a slightly worn navy blue couch pressed up against one wall, which she now sat on, while opposite her, Dr. Pawz sat in one of two arm chairs that were a soft yellow color. The windows took up most of one wall and had periwinkle drapes drawn over them, while various portraits of galaxies and wilderness scenes decorated the walls. There was some succulents on a shelf, while another housed paperback novels. In the corner, there was a plastic bin filled with children’s toys and stuffed animals.

Dr. Pawz _seemed_ nice, too, at least. Clawdeen thought she looked rather young for being a therapist- she didn’t seem like she could’ve been older than maybe late twenties, maybe early thirties. She was a calico werecat, who currently had her grey and orange hair put into a sleek ponytail, leaving her fringe to fall just under her eyebrows. Her eyes were an intense bright blue color. Her tail gently swished back and forth underneath her by her leg. Based on what she’d seen in TV shows, Clawdeen expected her to be wearing a suit, but to her further surprise, Dr. Pawz was instead dressed in a simple lilac denim shirt and some dark jeans, with her feet clad in some simple flats. She looked more like a young mom about to pick her kid up from soccer practice, or something. 

The silence stretched between the two of them. Clawdeen grimaced in further discomfort and fiddled with a loose thread on the sleeve of her jacket.  She glanced at the clock on the wall. They were only ten minutes in. Another hour and twenty minutes. Great. 

“I like your shoes,” Dr. Pawz said suddenly, “Those Scare Force Ones?”

Clawdeen glanced up at her, surprised. She glanced back down at her sneakers, which were metallic gold with zippers on the sides and large gold-painted plastic chains running across the front of the tongues, with black laces. They were rather scuffed and beat up now, having been an older pair that she used to change into after soccer practice and having been stolen by Howleen numerous times.

“Um, y-yeah,” she answered, looking back up at her, “How did you know?”

Dr. Pawz shrugged, “I have a bit of  a thing for shoes. Sneakers, especially. I always just find them super convenient- simple, comfortable, yet still able to fashionable. Honestly, if I had the choice, I’d rather be wearing them than these. But it was either these or heels.” 

She kicked her legs out for a moment to emphasize the purple ballet flats she wore. Clawdeen smiled and gave her own shrug.

“Yeah, they’re okay,” she said, “They weren’t worth the price, though. Spent my whole damn paycheck on them and after a week, the zipper had already broke. But they’re pretty.” 

“That’s always the worst, isn’t it?” Dr. Pawz asked, “It’s almost always pretty or practical. You either complete the look and have blisters by the end of the day, or you can walk around and look like a frumpy old woman. It’s never both.”

Clawdeen smiled, “Yeah...”

It quickly faded, though, the more she looked at the beaten and peeling toes. A thing of dread rose in her as she lifted her head at the therapist. “That’s...that’s not what you really want to ask me, though…is it?”

Dr. Pawz tilted her head at her, an inquisitive look in her eye. She asked, “What makes you say that?”

This time, Clawdeen couldn’t help but scoff, “Well, I doubt my parents decided to pay eighty dollars a week just so I can talk about shoes  like I’d do with my friends. And I doubt that’s why  _you_ decided to talk to me.” 

“Why not?” Dr. Pawz inquired, “If that’s what you feel comfortable talking about right now, why can’t we talk about shoes?”

Clawdeen opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out.  She blinked, caught off guard by the question. It seemed obvious- wasn’t that how these sessions went? The therapist tried a little icebreaker to try and make her feel a little comfortable, that way they could get down to the ugly stuff  once her defenses were down so it didn’t feel as hard- but when she went to retort, she found that she couldn’t come up with an answer. She closed her mouth, unable to find the words for a response. 

Dr. Pawz sighed. She took a sip of tea from the mug that sat beside her, before she turned back to Clawdeen. She laced her fingers together and held them in front of her knee.

“Clawdeen, therapy isn’t meant to be an interrogation,” she explained, “Yes, I know a lot about the _reasons_ why your parents sought therapy for you, and in due time, it will be important that we talk through your trauma, but it’s also important to me that _you’re_ comfortable enough to share it. 

“I know this is a bit step for you, and it’s going to take time,” Dr. Pawz added, “It wouldn’t be fair of me to expect you to bare your soul to me when we barely know each other. If you feel like you’re not ready to get to the hard parts and you need some time, then we can take time. If you only feel like you trust me enough to talk about your shoes-”

She gestured to the aforementioned sneakers, “Or something your brother did  to annoy you this morning or what you watched on TV last night, then we can talk about that. Sometimes, all we can do to help someone is to just listen and them get it all out.” 

Clawdeen considered that. She looked over at the shelf on the wall and read the titles of the books lined up on it. All the titles had some sort of gothic title, like  _Under the Blood Sky_ or  _Midnight Kisses_ .  She thought she recognized one or two of the authors in them. Crossing her arms, she looked back at Dr. Pawz. The werecat just sat there, awaiting a response from her. 

Finally, Clawdeen let out a sigh. “I’m sorry,” she said, “It’s just...it feels like I  _can’t_ talk about anything else.

“I-I mean, I _want to_ ,” she clarified, “But after everything, it...it’s like it all just hangs over my head! Like no matter what I do, it’s always there at the back of my mind, reminding me of everything. Even when I try to take my mind off it, something comes up and makes me r-remember it all over again. Even if it’s something small l-like a smell o-o-or a color, or even something _stupid_ like a joke my little sister makes, it’s like I’ll be perfectly fine and t-then I just get thrown back into remembering everything.” 

She pursed her lips together as she suddenly felt the urge to cry. She took a deep breath to try and remain calm. When she let it out again, she continued.

“My family...t-they don’t help things either. Not all the time,” she confessed, “I-I-I mean, I know they’re only trying to help, but it’s like...they’re always looking at me l-like they’re scared I’m going to start crying, o-o-or that I’m going to freak out at them. It...it makes me feel like...like I’m _crazy_.” 

She swallowed against the lump in her throat, “T-They don’t realize it, but they make me feel like a freak. L-Like I can’t be trusted  to do anything. It...it sucks.” 

Dr. Pawz nodded in understanding. “You’ve already been put through a situation where you’ve been made to feel as if your actions and your judgment were always second-guessed, like you could never be trusted for your own choices. It must be hard to feel like you still have to go through that, even after you’ve been removed from that prior situation.”

Clawdeen nodded. She sniffed and wiped at the corner of her eye with her sleeve. Dr. Pawz reached over at the coffee table that rested between them and picked up the box of tissues there to hold it out for her. Clawdeen accepted a few with a word of thanks.

“It’s just...I feel like...like I’m a stranger, almost,” she added as she dabbed at her eyes. She folded the tissue to the other side and wiped at her nose.

“I mean, I...” she shook her head, thinking back to all the photographs she’d seen in her house of all the life events she didn’t get to be apart of. She thought to when the ghouls came over and all the other happy events her friends had got to experience, such as Laura and Clawd’s engagement and the announcement of Cleo’s pregnancy. 

So many happy memories and life stories that would get to be told. So many emotions she never got to experience for herself. It was such a juxtaposition- everyone was going to school and getting married and starting their own families. Meanwhile, the only stories she had were full of pain and sorrow and all the ugly, darkest aspects of  unlife. What did she have to offer? What did she have to show? 

“I mean, I used to be _the_ ghoul,” Clawdeen said, looking at Dr. Pawz with frustration, “The one who knew what she wanted and how she was going to get it. I was the one who was going to make something of herself. I _knew_ I was going to do it. You can ask anyone who knew me in high school and they knew that I was someone who knew what I wanted.” 

She swallowed, “I’ve always worked  _so_ hard to make a name for myself and to show who I was. And now...now,  _I_ barely even know who I am anymore.” 

Clawdeen gestured to her outfit. It was  a simple, plain one; just a faded purple t-shirt that used to belong to her mom as a teen, a black jacket with a fur-lined hood, and black lounge pants with pink bordering. Her sneakers were really the only fashionable part of all of it, and even then they were falling apart. 

“Look at me: I never used to go anywhere without dressing my very best, because I wanted to make a statement. I always wanted to establish myself as a definite presence that everyone would remember in the room,” Clawdeen explained, “Now? I can barely find the energy or the drive to just _match_ my clothes.

“I was always independent: I was able to build things using my dad’s tools without his or my brothers’ help, I made my own things using spare parts, I made my own money and bought my own clothes. Now, I...I still feel like I’ll get punished for even going downstairs at night to get a glass of water without asking anyone, even if they’re all asleep,” she exclaimed. 

She clenched the tissues she had used in her fists.  Her claws flexed against where they resting on her knees and she pressed her chin to her collarbone, as if preparing to get struck. Clawdeen clenched her eyes shut and fought against the feeling that made her want to just break down in right there in Dr. Pawz’s office. 

“I should be happy,” she wept, “I-I get to sleep in my own bed again, I’m back with my family, I’m able to eat what I want when I want and shower with hot water a-a-a-and not go every day with raped, or hit, o-o-or insulted. But, I...I’m not. I feel just as miserable as I did in DC.”

“Twice now, you’ve been taken away from the life you knew and put into a completely different environment you’re not used to,” Dr. Pawz explained softly, “You’ve since grown to expect things to go a certain way, adapted to certain routines and associate with certain people. And suddenly, you’ve been swept up and had everything turned on its head and now you’re supposed to figure out how to adjust to everything at once, without even a warning of what’s going to come.” 

Clawdeen sniffled and grabbed more tissues to wipe at her eyes. She felt a hand on her knee and looked up to see Dr. Pawz leaning forward, lightly touching her.

“Which is why therapy is there for you,” Dr. Pawz said, “So we can talk about these troubles you’ve been having and figure out the best way to overcome them. Talk through this trauma you’ve acquired and discuss what can be done for you to be able to live with it without it doing further damage to your mental health.” 

She leaned back in her seat and gestured with her hands. “Your mother says you haven’t been sleeping well? We can talk through what can be done to counter that- maybe it helps to just talk it out or maybe you have to go on sleep medication. You say little things remind you of your assaults? Then that means those are possible triggers; we can discuss just what all them might be and how you can  help keep yourself calm whenever you encounter one of them so you don’t physically and emotionally wear down in a panic attack. Anything and everything you think needs to be talked about or worked through, I’m here to help you.

“But you know what’s important to remember?” she asked.

Clawdeen raised her head at her. “What?”

“It’s _okay_ that you feel the way you do. No matter what emotion it is or when or how often you feel it,” Dr. Pawz assured her, “You have been through a very traumatic experience that has made you completely change how you look at people and the world. And now you’ve been left with all this baggage and you have no clue as to what you’re going to do with all of it. And you know what? That’s perfectly fine. It wouldn’t be fair to expect that you’re just immediately butterflies and rainbows when you’ve been made to live in fear for an extended period of time. It’s great your family’s there, sure, but there’s still a lot they _don’t_ get. They didn’t live through what you lived through. A few things of happiness aren’t going to suddenly erase the physical and emotional pain you’ve had to go through. 

“And frankly, anyone who expects different? That thinks you’re being ‘difficult’ or that you need to ‘get over it’ because it’s all over or that you’re ungrateful for not appreciating what you have now? Well, they’re just an apathetic git who can go fuck themselves,” Dr. Pawz finished crudely. 

Clawdeen’s brows shot her hairline. She gaped at the therapist,  shocked at the absolute lack of a filter she had used with her last sentence. Wouldn’t such language be considered unprofessional or something? 

It did cheer up a little, though, as she scoffed in bewilderment. “You really aren’t afraid to tell it like it is, are you?” she asked in disbelief.

“In my experience, a lot of the times you have to, whether it’s for a patient in denial of unhealthy coping mechanisms or their acquaintances who don’t want to face the root of their loved one’s issues,” Dr. Pawz answered, “We’ve made a lot of progress through the years in understanding the complexity of the mind and lessening the stigma against mental illness, but unfortunately there are still those who still like to believe that everything can be solved with a few simple motivational speeches and just not thinking about it.” 

She gave Clawdeen a knowing look. Her sky blue eyes were soft and held a certain amount of warmth to them.

“I can’t guarantee that I will be able to find a catch-all solution to your problems or that they’ll magically go all just go away one day and never bother you again,” she said, “But I _can_ promise that I will help you in whatever ways I can, for as long as you are my patient. Does that sound good to you?” 

Clawdeen nodded slowly. There was still a small bit of doubt lingering, but as she gazed into the werecat’s features, she found that she couldn’t find any hint of d eception in them. 

“Good,” Dr. Pawz said, “And also, remember, Clawdeen: None of this your fault. No matter what you’ve done in your unlife or said that you think serves as some sort of karma, you didn’t deserve to go through this.”

Clawdeen grimaced at her, hesitant to agree with her. It seemed so easy to be able to say that- that she was merely a victim of something horrible and that nothing she did could have prevented or justified it- but it also seemed like such a weak answer. To think that everything she went through was just because she was, by chance, the one that Striggy and Gem had favored the most.

In some kind of twisted sense, it almost seemed better to  think that she did something that warranted her cruel fate. At least, by then, there  _was_ a reason. 

And maybe there was, she thought as she felt her gut twist up. Maybe, as evident by her fight with Shelby and her treatment of Annabelle, it was meant to serve as a wake-up call to her.

A way to show her she wasn’t as innocent as she had believed she was. That there was something wrong with her that made her capable of causing harm, and this was to remind her that the cards were never truly in her favor.

“Clawdeen?” Dr. Pawz called again when she remained silent.

“I...I know,” Clawdeen answered her hollowly, “T-Thank you, D-Dr. Pawz.”

“You can call me Jennifur if you want,” she insisted. 

“O-Okay, Jennifur...” Clawdeen corrected. She looked up at her a bit bashfully, “If...when...when I...tell you about the...t-the stuff, y-you can’t tell anyone else about it, r-right?” 

“No,” Jennifur assured her, “Under law, unless you something that I think implies you’re about to bring harm to yourself or others, everything that we talk about in this office is strictly confidential.”

“My parents don’t even have to know?” Clawdeen countered.

Jennifur shook her head, “Even if you were still a minor, unless they’re in here with you or you talk to them about it outside sessions, not even they have the right to intrude on your privacy.”

That was right, Clawdeen thought, a bit discouraged, she wasn’t a minor. She was twenty-two. By now, she was old enough to legally drink,  go to a club, gamble, and carry a weapon. 

Not like she wasn’t  _already_ doing those former two, but now she could do it in plain sight, without fear of getting arrested or apprehended. She was far from the young teenager she was back at Monster High…

“Is something on your mind?” Jennifur asked, noting the sudden stricken look that had come over the werewolf.

Clawdeen sighed heavily and leaned back in her chair. Her gaze turned to the window and lingered on the outline of a red flower swaying in the breeze in the flower box outside. She briefly lost herself in its gentle movements.

It seemed almost wrong, to know she was an adult. She didn’t get to enjoy the last few years of being a teenager and experiencing all those important events that people often marked as a sign of growing up, like taking her driver’s test or going to prom. Instead, she was forced to grow up as she was worked to the bone and force to give herself over time and time again.

Growing up in her place in DC meant learning your place, or else you got killed. Time blurred together there, until, before she knew it, it had indeed already been years.

Realizing she still hadn’t answered Jennifur, Clawdeen turned back to her and answered, “It’s nothing. Just...thinking.”

Glancing at her watch, Jennifur remarked, “We still have twenty minutes. Is there anything else you want to talk about?”

“Do I really have a choice?” Clawdeen asked back, giving her a doubtful look.

It seemed like a ridiculous question. Wasn’t the whole reason she was here was to talk? Jennifur may be acting nice now, but Clawdeen knew sooner or later, she was going to be more urgent in getting her to spill it.

The actual response the werecat had for her, however, surprised her. “That depends,” Jennifur answered, "Do you think the way you’ve been handling things now has proved to help you at all?”

For a second, she was rewarded with a venomous glare for the werewolf. It was a knee-jerk reaction, though, as Clawdeen gave another sigh and shook her head.

“No,” she admitted.

Jennifur nodded. There was already some progress in that, she thought. At least Clawdeen could admit that she needed help.

“Here, how about this?” she asked, “Let me give you a little assignment. Don’t worry, I’m not going to make you write a grateful list or anything like that. It’s quite simple. You said you used to put a lot of effort into your appearance, right? Well, here’s what I want you to do...”

Clawdeen listened in, nodding along as the werecat explained to her her ‘assignment’ for the next time they met.

Twenty minutes later, she stepped out of Jennifur’s office as the latter held the door out for her. Harriet was sitting in the lobby, a small book in her lap. She looked up as the door opened and stood up.

“I look forward to meeting with you again, Clawdeen,” Jennifur said, putting a gentle hand on the werewolf’s shoulder, “Remember what I asked, okay?”

“I will,” Clawdeen said in a small voice.

Harriet and her bid her goodbye, before they left the small office and made their way to the parking lot. As they got in the truck, Harriet looked over at Clawdeen with curiosity.

“So,” she began, “How did it go?”

Clawdeen shrugged as she buckled her seat belt, “It was...fine. She seems nice.”

“That’s good,” Harriet said, “Do you think it helped to talk with her?”

_There wasn’t really much we talked about,_ Clawdeen thought. Yet...she did feel a little better, admittedly. Even though they didn’t really go over anything about  _the incident_ , it did feel good to be able to vent to Jennifur about her frustrations with her family and everything. 

“Yeah,” she said, looking over at her mom, giving her a small smile, “It actually did.”

Harriet’s smile actually brightened as she said this. She reached out and stroked Clawdeen’s hair.

“I’m glad. It’s good to be able to find someone you can talk to who can help you out,” she commented, “It’s really good.” 

She turned her gaze back to the front of the car and turned the keys to start the engine. “Your father and I actually have an appointment with someone she recommended in a few days.”

That made Clawdeen look at her with surprise. “ Y-You do?” 

“Yeah,” Harriet confirmed. She buckled her seat belt and put the gear shift into reverse, before she turned in her seat to look over her shoulder as she backed out the parking space. Once they were out, she put it back into drive and started forward.

As she settled back in her seat, she saw Clawdeen was still looking at her with shock.  Harriet couldn’t help but chuckle at her expression. It was rather adorable. 

“Your dad and I thought it would be best if we saw someone for our _own_ feelings about all this,” she explained as she pulled up to the stop sign and put on her turn signal, “To help come to terms with everything that’s happened.” 

She pressed on the brakes and turned back to Clawdeen.

“We all will,” she said, “If we’re ever going to get through this, we all need to have a proper means of dealing with it. No holding it in or pretending everything’s all right.” 

She looked down at Clawdeen’s hands and took one of hers off the wheel to grasp it. Clawdeen held on gently. Harriet’s were soft and they smelled like honey, like she’d just put on lotion. She glanced back up at her mother, awaiting her to speak again.

“We didn’t when you...when you first disappeared...” Harriet paused as her expression faltered; she swallowed like she had a sudden lump in her throat, “And all of us nearly fell apart. We would’ve completely broken down if we didn’t have each other and our friends. But now...now we can’t just act like it hasn’t changed us all in some way.” 

Clawdeen nodded slowly. She wasn’t used to seeing this vulnerable look her mom was displaying right now. Harriet quickly regained her composure, though, as she let out a deep breath. She smiled and brought Clawdeen’s hand up to her so she could kiss it.

“I think for once, we need to put aside our werepride and admit that this isn’t something the pack can heal on its own, don’t you think?” she asked.

Clawdeen smiled.  Her mom’s lips felt warm on her skin. 

“Yeah,” she agreed.

Giving her hand another squeeze, Harriet let her go and focused her attention back on the road to turn to the right. It was quiet between the two of them as she drove them home, but this silence was a little more bearable, Clawdeen thought.

Perhaps therapy wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

* * *

( _A few days later…)_

Clawdeen sat at the dining room table, picking at her nails as her parents waited along with her. Under any circumstance, she would’ve found a bit of humor in the situation: after all her years in school and _now_ was when she had to have a parent-teacher conference, and it was over something that wasn’t even her own doing.

Yet, all the auburn-haired wolf could feel as she waited for their guests was nervousness. Considering who was coming, it was going to be a big reveal over what awaited her in the next few months, if not years.

“If you feel like this is all coming too fast, I can always tell them to hold off for another day,” Harriet had said when her and Clawrk came to her and Howleen’s to tell her of the plan, “We can always wait for when you feel like you’re ready-”

“No,” Clawdeen had assured her, “I-I want them to come. I want to know where I’m at.”

Everything was all “too fast”. She didn’t want to wait for this; if she did, it could very well be years before she was able to pick up where she left off.

So here they sat, the three of them the only ones in the house. Howleen and the boys had gone off to either school or work, while the sextuplets were over at the park with their friends and the twins were at daycare. Clawrk busied himself with the newspaper to pass the time, while Harriet was texting on her phone. Clawdeen bounced her leg up and down, consistently looking out the window for the vehicles in question. She would’ve looked at her own phone, but they still had to get her a new one.

Finally, a familiar sleek purple-black vintage Rolls Royce passed by the house and drove around the corner to head up their driveway. A second later, Clawdeen saw a light blue shape pass by in a blur that, for a split second, looked like it was a horse.

Clawdeen felt her stomach churn with nervousness. They were here.

Her parents raised their heads as they heard the neigh of a horse from out front. It was joined by a car door slamming shut. Right afterward, the doorbell rang.

“Coming,” Clawrk called out, getting up from his seat to go answer it.

Harriet followed him out. Clawdeen stayed where she was; already, she could feel herself grow anxiousness at the thought of the topic of their discussion. She was eager to know, yet at the same time dreading it, in case it turned out to be the worst possible scenario.

A few seconds later, her parents returned to the dining room. Following in behind them were Draculaura’s dad and Headmistress Bloodgood. Neither looked like they had aged a day since the last time Clawdeen had seen them, yet they had clearly made some changes.

Dracula’s eyes immediately fell on her as he entered the dining room and he grinned in a way that was quite unlike his usual laid back demeanor. As he approached Clawdeen, he held his arms out at his sides in a wide gesture for embrace.

“Oh, Clawdeen, _draga fata,”_ he said with a great amount of relief as he bent down and swept the young she-wolf up into a hug, “It has been much too long. Ramoanah and I have missed you dearly.”

He held Clawdeen tightly to his chest as if trying to protect her from an imaginary barrage of weapons. Clawdeen hugged him back; surprisingly, she found she was desperately curling into him, and took great comfort in the gesture as Dracula turned to press a kiss to the side of her head.

“Thanks, Mr. D,” Clawdeen said as she snuggled into his embrace. Surprisingly, she found that she had greatly missed him, too and was grateful for the large display of affection he was showing her- a deep contrast from his usually cool demeanor.

When they pulled apart, she turned her attention to Headmistress Bloodgood, who stood beside Dracula. The headless principal smiled at Clawdeen, still looking as eternally youthful as she had back at Monster High, though her hair was longer. It was a bit weird, Clawdeen thought, to see her without her usual purple coat and riding boots. Now, Bloodgood was dressed in a simple dark blue wrap dress and heels.

“Hello, Clawdeen,” Bloodgood greeted, holding out her hand, “It’s very, very nice to see you. I hope you’ve been doing well since you’ve returned.”

Clawdeen took her hand and shook it. “I’ve been...okay. Just, you know, getting back to normal.”

Bloodgood smiled, “What truly is ‘normal’ for us, though?”

That got her a small chuckle out of Clawdeen, “You got me there.”

“Would you two like anything to drink?” Harriet asked as she made her way to the kitchen, “I was just about to make some tea.”

“Tea would be lovely,” Bloodgood said as Clawrk guided her to sit at the table, where she took a seat beside Clawdeen.

“I’ll be fine,” Dracula said as he sat down beside where Harriet had been.

Clawrk took his seat at the head of the table. Harriet came back with two mugs of tea for and Bloodgood, which the headmistress took with a comment of thanks, before she sat down on Clawrk’s left, leaving Clawdeen and Bloodgood on his right.

“So, Clawdeen, before we start, do you have any questions?” Bloodgood asked as she opened her messenger back and started pulling out folders.

Clawdeen shook her head, “J-Just, you know, wondering where I am in all of this.”

She glanced down at the folders in front of her, apprehensive to the information they contained and what they were going to tell her.

In them contained all the documents that were part of her student file and her records at Monster High. Bloodgood and Dracula had bought them to talk with her and her parents about her graduation status at the time that she’d been kidnapped.

Based on them, Clawdeen would learn of where her education stood now, and what they would do once they decided it was time for her to go back to school. If she could even go back to school.

A memory came to her, and she bit down on her lip in bitterness at it. When junior year had come around, Clawdeen remembered she’d been excited. She’d gotten dozens of offers from various colleges , asking her if she was interested in their various fashion and business programs, as well as scholarships for fearleading, soccer, softball, all her extracurricular activities. She remembered that the one that had most interested her was an offer from the Fashion Institute of Technology in Boo York; it offered her everything, from scholarships to programs for her to study abroad to promises of fully paid for room and board.

Clawdeen had been looking forward to their response letter the most. For her, it was the yellow brick road in getting her straight to her dream job. She had already imagined it: building her follower count for her DIY blog as she documented her journey through the competitive school, getting a full-ride scholarship, living in New York- the heart of all fashion- and being able to have her own place for her to deck out however she wanted, with no annoying siblings using up all the hot water and stealing her clothes and breaking her jewelry. Clawdeen was practically already imagining what kind of bedspread and furniture she’d buy.

She withheld a scoff. _Well,_ she thought, _I certainly_ _ **did**_ _get to live on my own. Though not really in the way that I wanted or imagined._

The sound of Bloodgood’s voice brought her back to the current situation. She looked up as the headmistress opened her file and started sorting through it.

“You all probably remember, but at the time of Clawdeen’s disappearance, she was halfway through her junior year,” she started, “The second semester had just started, so that would mean she was supposed to take the statewide assessment test, as well as her SATs and ACTs.”

She flipped through the documents until she found the paper she was looking for and pulled it to place it in the center of the table. Everyone leaned over to get a look at it. It was a transcript of all the classes Clawdeen had taken at Monster High and middle school.

“These are the number of credit hours Clawdeen had a the time of her disappearance,” Bloodgood explained as she pointed at a number at the bottom of the form, where at the right, all the credit numbers of each of her classes were printed, “As you can see, she’s currently at sixteen. The state requirement for graduation is twenty-four.”

She pulled out another sheet from her bag and placed it besides her transcript, before she began reading over it. “Oregon state has several requirements you have to fulfill in terms of the types of classes you have to take for graduation: Four credits for English, three in Social Studies, three for math, three science credits, one and half for PE, and half a credit for health.

“That leaves the remaining eight credits to be fulfilled by electives,” Bloodgood continued, “It’s also expected that students complete a minimum of forty hours of community service throughout all four years, with an average of ten hours per year.”

She took a pen from her bag and turned the page showing the graduation requirements towards her, where she began making little notes and crossing out various classes.

“The good news is, after looking over Clawdeen’s transcript, Vlad and I have found that she’s actually not super far behind,” Bloodgood assured as she turned the edited transcript back to them.

She used her finger to point at the notes she made as she discussed them with the Wolfs, “Since English is a year-long class, unfortunately, Clawdeen will have to repeat Dead Languages Level 3, as well as complete another selective class, such as AP literature or Decomposition. She’ll also either have to retake History of the Undead or another history class to fulfill the social studies requirement.”

Quickly pulling the transcript over to her, Bloodgood made a quick note before putting it back in the middle.

“Her sophomore year, she took biteology and ge-ogre-phry consecutively, so luckily that completes her science credits, and that’s also the year that most students take health, so that’s out of the way. But, she’ll still have to retake Clawculus or, again, another math class,” she said.

She turned away from them all for a moment to reach into her bag. Clawdeen watched her flip through various color folders, before she pulled out a red one and opened it to pull out a sheet, which Bloodgood then passed to her. Clawdeen held it in both hands as she looked it over; Clawrk glanced over her shoulder to read it. It was a liability form.

“Since gym is only a quarter long, one credit is the equivalent to three years. However, students who are in numerous sports, like Clawdeen was, or have certain medical conditions can get it waivered on their transcript,” Bloodgood said, nodding at the sheet of paper Clawdeen held.

“That means she’ll only have seven credits to complete rather than eight,” she said, “The other three can be fulfilled by any number of electives Monster High offers.”

“Of course, she’ll also still need to take her SAT and ACT and any other mandatory tests if she’s considering going to college,” Dracula interjected, “But dates are scheduled throughout the year, so there’s no rush to get those done.”

Clawdeen blinked and looked back and forth between them. There were so many numbers and kinds of classes to be considered that she quickly lost track. Her parents didn’t seem to have much luck in keeping up, either. Clawrk kept looking between her transcript and the requirements form like he couldn’t quite put them together.

“S-So, w-w-wait,” Clawdeen spoke up, looking at Bloodgood, “W-What does that mean? W-What will I have to do then?”

Bloodgood turned in her seat to face her. She grasped her chin for a moment to think of her answer, before she lifted her gaze to meet the she-wolf’s.

“Well, you have several options,” she explained, “Since you _are_ a legal adult by now, you don’t have to actually go back to school. If you would rather, you can always just get your GED. Or you can enroll in an adult high school program in order to get your diploma.”

She raised her brow at Clawdeen, before she raised her hands with her palms facing up in a nonchalant gesture.

“Or, of course,” she said, “Considering we _are_ monsters and therefore do not have as many age requirements or limitations as human schools do, you are always welcome to enroll back at Monster High and just complete your diploma the traditional way.”

Clawdeen’s eyes widened at the suggestion. She looked back at the transcripts blankly, processing the thought.

Clawrk leaned forward slightly to look at her eyes. “You’d still get to have all the experiences, Deenie,” he said quietly, “Get to go to all the stuff you were forced to miss.”

“Yes, you can even do _more_ now,” Dracula spoke up, “Monster High has since implemented a program with New Salem Community College, so you can take college classes while you’re in school. Depending on how you want your schedule, you might even be able to get your associate’s degree in conjunction with your diploma!”

“And even if you don’t,” Bloodgood said, “It still means classes you’re actually have to take once you get to college. _If_ you choose to go to college, that is.”

They all watched her, awaiting her response. It seemed like such an easy proposal. She could still get her education and do all the things that teenagers did, and since they were monsters, nobody would even look at her weirdly for doing so.

Clawdeen didn’t look the least bit happy, however. She stared off at a spot on the table, deep in thought. As she seemed to consider her options, her brows slowly furrowed and she actually seemed to grow upset at their suggestions.

Her hands clenched in the paper, suddenly, as if she were angry. Everyone leaned back in their chairs slightly, surprised by her reaction.

Finally, Clawdeen spoke up, “...None of my friends will be there, though.”

They all blinked at her. Clawdeen looked up at her parents, her eyes filled with despair.

“Nobody...” she began, “N-Nobody I know from school will be there. E-Everyone who was in school when I was there has since graduated. I-I won’t know anyone there i-if I go back. I’ll...I’ll be alone.”

Clawrk and Harriet shared a look, before they turned back to her. Clawrk reached out and touched her arm.

“Honey, you...” he started, “You won’t be alone. Laura and all of them will still be here to talk to you.”

“But they won’t be _with_ me,” Clawdeen countered, “All of them are already in college or working. They’re-they’re already so ahead, and...a-and I’ll be here, way behind.”

Bloodgood quickly spoke up, “There is nothing with being behind, Clawdeen. There are numerous students in your current position who haven’t had the chance to complete their education at one point or another. That’s part of why Monster High is around: to give monsters the opportunity to do what they couldn’t do in the Old World.”

It wasn’t the same, Clawdeen thought. Those monsters were forced to hide, whether it out was out of fear of persecution from the humans or due to conflicts with neighboring species. They hadn’t had the resources to go to school or live freely. They were regular old monsters who went through regular troubles and, once the world moved on, could start anew with a blank slate.

They didn’t have a _name_ attached to their troubles.

That was what bothered her. Her name had made the news more than once. She’d been the talk of the town. Once, that would’ve been fine- it wasn’t just every day you sabotaged a plagiarizing, kidnapping fashion designer or keep a megalomaniac from stealing the vampire throne- but now, the atmosphere surrounding Clawdeen had changed.

If she went back to Monster High, she wouldn’t be known as the ghoul who stopped Van Hellscream, or a shadow genie, or who was part of the first all-ghoul SKRM team.

They would know her as the ghoul who’d been kidnapped.

Who’d been raped.

Who’d been _whoring_ herself out for a living.

They’d know, sooner or later. She wasn’t stupid. Maybe her parents and Mr. D could keep most of the details out of the local papers, but there was always someone who could put two and two together. Aran’s trial was bound to make national news: A bunch of rich guys who were busted as being part of a nationwide trafficking ring? That wasn’t any small feat.

Someone would figure it out. They’d realize her discovery or the news of her being found coincided too closely to the busting of the ring. Hell, people could probably just see it in her _eyes_ \- there was very few circumstances that would make someone like her so jittery, so uneasy around people.

And if people couldn’t figure it out, they’d draw their own conclusions. After all, as rare as they were, how many cases were there of young, pretty teenage ghouls like her going missing and then turning up after an extended period of time who’d been taken by old, creepy men who _hadn’t_ been fucked to the moon and back?

But...she didn’t want to wait.

At the same time, she wanted to go back to school. She wanted to get her diploma and actually have that feeling of accomplishment, knowing all those nights she spent fretting over stupid tests and last-minute book reports were actually worth something.

She just had never imagined she would have to do it while all her friends were already way ahead of her. If anything, she used to think it would’ve been the office.

Sensing the inner conflict within the young she-wolf, Dracula spoke up, “You don’t have to decide right this minute, Clawdeen. I mean, it _has_ only been a few weeks since you’ve been back in Salem.”

“Yes,” Bloodgood agreed, “Take a few days to sleep on it and talk it out with everyone. Whatever decision you come to, I’ll be happy to support you in whatever you want to do, okay?”

“Yeah,” Clawdeen answered without much enthusiasm. Her thoughts were elsewhere as she dwelt on her current situation and what it all meant.

Once, she’d thought she’d been on top of the world. She was a go-getter, a trendsetter, someone who’d always have to be one step ahead of everyone as she worked hard for what she wanted and took pride in her accomplishments. All the while breaking down the walls of those who wanted to put her in a box and scoff at her for a variety of things, whether it was her race, her gender, or her style. She wasn’t afraid to prove people wrong and give people the metaphorical finger as she did it.

Now, she could barely sleep for two hours a night and was practically scared of her own shadow. Where she would’ve once snarled at those who called her easy, or a dog, or a bimbo, she just quietly hung her head and accepted their taunts.

Clawdeen suddenly felt tired. She leaned back in her chair and sighed.

“Is everything okay, honey?” Harriet asked her, noting the glazed look in her eye, “Do you need something?”

Clawdeen shook her head.

“I’m fine,” she muttered, “Just frickin’ fantastic.”

Subconsciously, she was aware of the fact they were all looking at her and were probably seeing the opposite, but Clawdeen had since checked out of the current conversation.

What a laugh sixteen-year-old her would’ve had if she could see herself now: Twenty-two, no diploma, no job, no shred of confidence left in her.

It would’ve sounded like a bad joke to her younger self.

A really fucking bad, horrible joke.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: A bit shorter than the usual, but tbh I didn't really know what else to do with this chapter. I originally had more planned for this chapter, but I thought to move it all to a different chapter so it wouldn't get too long or drawn out. So maybe consider this one to be a bit of filler. 
> 
> As a side note, I'm also aware that the chapters have also been pretty dialogue heavy the last few updates and I apologize for that. I admit, I'm having a bit more trouble with the flow and direction of this story than I have for my last two ones, mainly because I feel like I overlook certain aspects of characters or situations and then end up overthinking it, even with the outline I've made. So if that's something that's proving to be a bit jarring, I apologize.


	7. Chapter 6: Baby Steps

Clawdeen looked down at her dresser, contemplating the contents in them. She had a towel wrapped around her, intent on getting in the shower. She was just about to step in, when she realized she hadn’t picked her clothes out yet.

She had the upper middle drawers opened, the contents of which were revealed to be a variety of shirts, blouses, and camisoles, all that had been neatly folded into three rows. Clawdeen’s eyes trailed over them, her lower lip between her teeth as she tried to decide what she wanted to wear.

For the last few weeks, she’d just been randomly grabbing whatever pair was at the top- mostly a t-shirt and lounge pants or shorts- lacking much of the energy or motivation she once had to try and match or color coordinate or whatever kind of visions of visions she’d used to have in terms of putting together an outfit. As per her first assignment, however, Jennifur had told her she wanted her to try and actually put some thought into what clothes she’d choose to wear.

“ _Your passion for fashion- excuse the pun- is clearly something that means a lot you and is a major part of your personality,”_ Jennifur said, “ _And it seems to me that this awareness of this lack of interest you’ve been having is really starting to affect your self-confidence and your sense of self.”_

She had proposed, “ _So I want you, either the night before you go to bed or every morning as you get ready, take at least ten minutes to think about what exactly you feel in the mood for wearing that day and put together an outfit. It doesn’t have to be over-the-top or anything, but something that you feel is...more **you** than a simple shirt and some pull-on shorts. Something you feel pretty in, that you think showcases who you are.” _

Hence why Clawdeen stood in front of her dresser now, trying to think of what kind of ‘mood’ she felt like today.

To her frustration, it was harder than she would’ve thought.

It wasn’t like she had never had trouble picking out clothes before; there were plenty of times when she was in school where she’d drive Howleen crazy because she’d spend literal hours trying to decide an outfit. She’d think she’d decide on one combo, but then would spot one of her sweaters or a new pair of leggings and come up with another outfit, or she’d seen a dress and would imagine making an outfit out of _that,_ and so on and so forth until a literal hour had gone by and she would still be standing in front of her closet, two garments in hand.

Even when she was in DC, she’d put effort in considering the clothes she was going to wear for that day. And half the clothes she was provided either didn’t fit her properly or were torn or stained with some ungodly substance.

When it came to making money and meeting your quota, a sharp-dressed whore versus a trashy-looking whore really did make all the difference.

_Now_ , though, she was having trouble because she was dry. 

She didn’t really  _care_ about how she looked. Just thinking about having to spend time figuring out what to wear was stressing her out. She had no plans for today, but having to decide on what clothes she was going to pick out and not just swipe what was closest in her drawer made her feel like she was running on a deadline, or she was going to be late for something. 

Maybe that was the part of her that still was getting used to the fact that she didn’t have to dress up anymore and meet with a client or a John. 

Clawdeen’s claws clenched in her towel at the thought. Yet another part of her that had been  polluted by Aran and his teachings. She felt in a hurry because she’d been taught that dilly-dallying over the small things was precious time wasted that could’ve been spent working. 

And time wasted could mean a punishment. 

Shaking her head of the thought, Clawdeen turned her attention back to her task at hand. 

It was hard. She really had no clue what she wanted to wear. 

_Something that makes you feel pretty,_ Jennifur had said. 

That was laughable. She hadn’t felt pretty for a long, long time. 

She looked away from her drawers for a moment to glance out the window. It was a nice crisp Autumn day. The leaves on the trees outside were bright orange and red, fall colors. 

“Maybe a sweater?” Clawdeen suggested to herself. 

She looked over at her closet, where she usually kept her sweater dresses and long garments. She treaded over there and pulled out one that caught her eye; it was one that had been a gift from  Clawdia her sophomore year, soft and made of gold metallic yarn. Clawdeen had modified it slightly so it was distressed around the leg area. 

She took it out and held it up to her. Clawdeen frowned heavily. With the weight she had lost, it looked at least three sizes too big. No way it would give her any  form . 

“Not that one,” Clawdeen muttered to herself as she put it back. She looked through the rest of her dresses and sweaters, flipping through them as each one proved to be a no-go. 

_Too scratchy. Too big. Too small. Too tight…_

“Fuck, _why_ is this so hard?” Clawdeen growled in frustration as she gave up on the closet and turned back to her drawers.

She didn’t have the slightest hint of what she wanted to do. She felt not even an inkling come to her.

It was like leaving DC had snipped the last few strings of creativity she had. Now, she had nothing. It was enough to make tears come to her eyes.

Clawdeen swallowed against them and roamed the tops in her drawers once again. She could practically feel the ticking of the clock going by. She wanted to have been in the shower already.

She was about to snarl again when something near the bottom of the drawer caught her eye. Clawdeen tilted her head and padded towards it to get a better look.

At the bottom of the middle row, where she normally kept her solid colors, Clawdeen could see something dark purple and lacy. Clawdeen reached in and pulled it out and held it in front of her.

It was a plum-colored lace top that had long bell sleeves. The bodice area was velvet, allowing the floral designs of the lace to become more obvious. Clawdeen felt the material with her thumbs. It was soft to the touch.

Clawdeen considered it. She thought she had bought this for herself. Or one of her friends had gotten it for her, she couldn’t remember. Her lips jutted out in thought.

Maybe this could work. It was really pretty…

Tucking it over her arm, Clawdeen shut the middle drawers and bent down to open the bottom ones on her dresser. These ones had all her pants, leggings, and shorts. Digging through them, Clawdeen glanced between all she pulled out and the lace top. What would look nice with this one?

“No, no, no...” Clawdeen murmured as she pulled out various bottoms and shorts.

Then, she pulled out a pair of leggings and paused. They were champagne colored and printed with lime green and purple flowers, typical of the color scheme she’d been so fond of.

Clawdeen thought about it. She lay the top on the top of her dresser and then the leggings on top of it, pondering the picture forming in her mind. The purple of the flowers on the leggings were much brighter than the color of the blouse, but she doubted many people would notice.

Fingering the lycra material of the leggings, she glanced down at her legs. It had been weeks since she shaved her legs, so the natural brown fur there had grown thick and coarse, her own natural pair of fleece tights. Clawdeen couldn’t even remember the last time she had touched a razor.

If she didn’t shave, it would itch horrendously once she put the leggings on. Plus it would look horrible. But she didn’t know if she still had some of her old razors. The one she’d been using around the time of the...incident, was bound to be scummy and rusty by now.

But she had an outfit.

And it was awfully cute, if she thought so herself. Not too heavy, not too light. A perfect mix for the fall weather.

Clawdeen managed a small smile, looking over the combination again. She fingered the lace on the top. Yeah, it was a nice combo. She could see herself wearing something like this in Monster High.

She glanced up and looked at herself in the mirror of her vanity. She lightly fluffed at some of the curls by her shoulder with the palm of her hand.

Maybe she’d fix her hair, too. Some makeup could help tie the outfit together, too. Maybe some simple neutral tones and a nude lipstick. Or just some eyeliner and gloss.

_Yeah, you do that,_ a voice suddenly hissed from somewhere deep inside her mind,  _Go and doll yourself up like a good little whore. Just make sure it doesn’t look trashy, all right? Then they’ll really know how much of a cheap fuck you are._

Clawdeen stilled. She glanced up at her reflection, as if it had spoken. She felt like she’d just been punched in the stomach.

_Go ahead and make yourself pretty,_ her thoughts snarled at her,  _Go do your hair, paint your face. It won’t hide how ugly you really are. Nothing can disguise the nasty little slut that we all know is hiding in there._

“Shut up,” Clawdeen mumbled.

Luckily, she was able to block out the rest of the negative thoughts. But her mood was dampened as she picked out a pair of underwear and a bra and made her way to the bathroom.

She managed to find a spare razor buried in the bottom of the one of the bathroom drawers and there was still plenty of shaving cream left. Clawdeen grimaced when she shook the canister; it was covered in soap scum and dried dregs. Knowing Howleen, it’d probably been unused for a long time as the former often went without bothering to shave. It would have to do, Clawdeen thought.

As she stood under the spray, she lathered her hair and scrubbed at her scalp, before she tilted her head back and allowed it all to wash out. She ran her hands through to get out the rest of the product and to pull out any tangles.

Her hair still felt thin and breakable. Clawdeen held up a stray strand between her fingers. Even wet, she could see dozens of split ends. Her claws were also chipped and jagged, she noted, in need of a good manicure. (She needed a good everything, frankly). Sighing, Clawdeen fought against the temptation in her brain that wanted to absorb her in its cloud of pity and self-deprecation. She would just have to ask Howleen or Laura to help her with them.

Letting her damp hair stick back against her chest, Clawdeen lifted her leg up to rest against the edge of the tub and started lathering up her leg with shaving cream. It took her several strokes to completely remove all the hair and stubble from her legs. As she ran the razor up her thigh again, Clawdeen’s thoughts wandered back to her thoughts when she was picking out her clothes.

Maybe she just needed a bit of inspiration. Something to give her an idea of what pieces she could pair together and make do with. Clawdeen remembered how she used to follow a fashion blog where the owner commonly wore wigs with her outfits and had mentioned how sometimes her best outfits came out of her basing them off the wig style and color she wore.

Clawdeen thought she could do something like that as she bent down and shaved a line from her ankle to the side of her knee. Maybe find a pair of shoes or a skirt or even her favorite jewelry and model an outfit with those specifically in mind, like focusing on the colors or styles.

_Maybe you can take a look in your sketchbook, see what kind of figurative designs you could somewhat bring to life in your clothes…_

She paused and raised her head. Her expression became solemn at the thought.

God, how long had it been since any sort of idea for a design had come to her? It had been even longer since she’d been able to sit down and sketch one out or put together a collage.

If she was dried up on innovation for putting an outfit together that was with her own clothes, then any motivation or creativity she had for clothes that she could make herself had was now the equivalent to a dry, cracked desert in the middle of a drought. She felt as lacking as Moanetella Ghostier.

Her shoulders dropped in defeat.

And to think this all started because she _had_ been so passionate about her designs and her love for fashion.

Taking a deep breath, so as to pull herself out before she could fall down that rabbit hole, Clawdeen looked back down at her leg and resumed shaving.

After she had got out, she dressed. As she adjusted everything, Clawdeen stepped back and held her arms out, getting a good look at herself in the mirror.

She had to admit, she thought she actually looked pretty decent. The blouse wasn’t too tight so it gave her a bit of form without making her look shapeless. The billowy sleeves draped off halfway down her forearm and hung loose. The leggings were a bit big and Clawdeen thought they maybe made her legs look a bit spindly, but she rolled them up at the waist and luckily the shirt was long enough to cover it to make them fit.

She looked...like herself.

The thought wasn’t too bad.

Clawdeen was about to reach for a brush when there was a knock at the door.

“Yeah?” she called out.

Draculaura’s voice answered from the other side, “ _Hey, it’s me. Could I come in?”_

Clawdeen grabbed the knob and pulled the door opened. Draculaura smiled at her as she stepped in, wearing a pink tartan peacoat and some black leggings with some pink kitten heels.

“Hey!” she greeted happily as her and Clawdeen both came forward for a hug, “I was just getting back from running some quick errands while Clawd was out with some of the guys at the gym. He said your dad called to help him look at the truck, so I thought I’d stop.”

Clawdeen nodded slightly. “Yeah, he’s says he thinks it’s finally on the last leg of its life.”

Laura gave her own nod and glanced down at the she-wolf’s attire. Her eyes widened and brightened in recognition.

“Hey, you’re wearing those leggings I got for you!” she exclaimed, “Oh my goth, you look so cute!”

Clawdeen blushed and tugged at the hem of her shirt self-consciously. “Y-You really think so?”

“Yeah!” Laura said happily, “I love it! The lace of the shirt goes really well with the flowers on the leggings, and the green gives it a nice pop.”

She put a hand to her chin as she analyzed the outfit again. “Ooh, you know what would go really well with it?” she asked, “If you braided your hair. Maybe a French one? No, a Dutch one! Maybe even have a bit of fringe.”

She smiled as the picture formed, “Yeah, and maybe some nude lips. And it’s perfect!”

She looked excited as it all seemed to come together. She glanced up at Clawdeen, who just stood there with her wet hair, however, suddenly blushed.

“T-That is, i-if you’re in the mood,” Laura added, chuckling sheepishly, “Not that, um, you have to.”

“No,” Clawdeen cut in, “N-No, that...that sounds good.”

She looked down at her brush, before she glanced up at Laura and held it out.

“Will you...” she suggested, “Will you do it for me? It’s been, uh, a long time since I braided my hair.”

Draculaura perked up. Her smile came back and widened, showcasing her pearly fangs as her eyes twinkled like she had just come across the prettiest dress in the world. They quickly softened, though, and she nodded.

“I would love to,” she told Clawdeen and took the brush from her.

They went back into her room, where Clawdeen sat on her bed while Laura took her place behind her with a couple of elastics and bobby pins in her hands. For the next few minutes, Clawdeen sat quietly with her hands in her lap while the short vampire carefully ran her brush through her hair, being mindful of any tangles and knots she came across and trying to comb them out as gently as she could.

Clawdeen shivered at some points as the bristles pressed against her scalp or brushed the back of her neck, sending a pleasant tingle through her. Draculaura smiled at her response. As a bit of a joke, she lightly scratched at the back of Clawdeen’s neck with her French tips. It earned her a surprised mewl from the werewolf as Clawdeen arched her back.

“Hey,” Clawdeen said, turning her head slightly to give the vampire a dirty look.

“Sorry,” Draculaura said with a smile, “You just looked like you were enjoying yourself.”

Clawdeen rolled her eyes and turned back. She remained quiet as Laura finished up her hair. After she was done, she waited while she allowed Laura to pick out some makeup for her. She didn’t miss the way Laura made a face as she looked through some of her lipsticks and read something on the side.

“Oh...” Laura said.

“What?” Clawdeen asked, “What is it?”

Laura turned to her, her mouth twisted in a bit of a grimace as she held up a tube of one of Clawdeen’s liquid lipsticks.

“A lot of this...” she answered, “It’s expired.”

“Oh.”

_Ew_ . Clawdeen made her own disgusted expression. 

“Not worry!” Laura added, “We could always go to the maul and replace the stuff that’s old, sometime. Here, I have some of my own stuff in my bag for touch-ups.” 

She reached into her purse and pulled out some cosmetics. They moved to the floor, where Clawdeen sat still  as Laura applied  eye and lip products . She finally stood up with a smile and walked over to the closet. 

“And, we’re done!” she announced proudly and pulled the closet door shut so that the side with Clawdeen’s mirror was facing them, “What do you think?” 

Clawdeen got to her feet and paused, taking a look at herself in the mirror. She turned her head left and right, taking in the work the vampire had done. Most of her hair was still down, but Laura had created a mall Dutch braid that she pinned so it was running horizontally across Clawdeen’s crown near her hairline.  The mascara she used helped make Clawdeen’s eyelashes look bigger, and she applied a berry colored lip gloss that actually went nice with Clawdeen’s skin tone that was sparkly. 

Clawdeen blinked, taking a minute to take in all that she was looking at. 

It was weird to wear makeup without any foundation and concealer, and her skin still looked  slightly sallow and you could still see the circles under her eyes. But...it didn’t look half-bad. 

She actually looked presentable for once, instead of like she had just rolled out of bed and had worn the clothes randomly scattered on the floor, like she’d been feeling the last few weeks. 

“So?” Laura inquired, “What do you think? Do you like it?” 

Clawdeen looked away from the mirror to look at her. She stood next to the mirror, her brows raised expectantly. There was a bit of hope of approval that Clawdeen could see in her eyes.

“Y-Yeah...” Clawdeen answered, “Yeah, I like it. T-Thank you, Laura.” 

Laura’s eyes lit up like floodlights.  Her shoulders fell like she’d been relieved of a great weight and her cheeks went bright pink in a happy flush. 

“I’m glad,” she said, “I...” 

Her eyes suddenly fell. Her smile faltered slightly as she looked at the ground for a second, before she turned back to Clawdeen. 

“I...I miss being able to do this with you,” she admitted, her voice a bit quieter than before, “I miss our sleepovers, our hang-outs. I...I missed you.” 

“I missed you too,” Clawdeen said. 

They stood in silence for a second, neither one sure of what to say. They gave each other a look; silently, they both came forward and hugged each other. 

It all suddenly came at Clawdeen at once. Her lip quivered with the sudden threat of crying and she hugged Laura tighter to her as it all sunk in. 

She did miss her. Truly, deeply, missed her. Clawdeen thought about when she was in DC, how she would turn in to the shoddy little apartment Aran had her placed in after a long night of working the streets that sometimes lasted until well almost five in the morning.  It was a nasty place, with chipping paint and water damage in the walls and old furniture that was falling apart.

It had been terribly lonely, being in that apartment all by herself.  Vixen and Kimber were placed next door to her, but they were forbidden from talking to each other once they were in their rooms. Clawdeen had been left to her own devices after hours; she had nobody to talk to at the end of the night. Nobody to rant about to if she had a shitty day, or cry to if she was feeling really down, or to just be there to just listen to her. She’d been all alone, day in and day out. 

A sudden lump came in her throat. She tightened her hold around Draculaura and turned her nose to take a huge inhale of the vampire’s scent. The comforting smells of raspberries, rose perfume, and shea butter greeted her nostrils. 

“I missed you so much,” Clawdeen said before she could stop herself, “W-Whenever I was there, all I could think was you and-and how much I just wanted someone to h-hold me...” 

“Shhh,” Laura said, rubbing her back, “I know, love. I’m here for you.” 

“ _Hey, Lala! You up there!”_ Clawd’s voice called from down the hall. 

The ghouls looked up at the door. They separated as Draculaura went to the door and pulled it open, just in time to see Clawd  pass by in front of the door. He turned in their direction and stopped. 

“Hey,” he said as he turned to face them, “Dad and me are done with the truck. You ready to go?” 

“Yeah,” Laura answered, sliding her arms around her waist, “I was just helping Clawdeen get ready.” 

Clawd glanced up at his sister. His eyes widened slightly as he took in her appearance. Clawdeen shifted on her feet and gave him a small, shy smile. 

“Wow,” Clawd exclaimed, “You...you look good, ‘Deen. You look really pretty.” 

“Thank you,” Clawdeen replied, her blush coming back. 

Clawd stepped into the room and gave her a small hug in greeting that she returned. He looked over his shoulder and cocked his thumb back in the direction of the hallway. 

“Hey, um, the guys are here with me, if you want to say hi,” he suggested, “We were gonna go out to get something to eat, if you want to come with us?” 

Clawdeen  shrugged, “Maybe. Where do you want to go?” 

“We’re still talking it out,” Clawd said as the three of them left the room and made their way downstairs, “We were stuck between sushi or burgers.” 

They got to the bottom in the front parlor. In the kitchen, Clawdeen could hear her dad washing his hands and talking with Nino and Barker.  Clawd turned to look at Clawdeen as she followed him and Laura through the living room. 

“Is there anything you’re craving?” he asked, “If you have any specific place in mind, we could go there instead.” 

“N-Not really,” Clawdeen answered, “I don’t know.”

“Oh, h-hey, Clawdeen.” 

Clawdeen paused. She looked to the left. Deuce, Romulus, Dougey, and Heath sat on the couches, all of them dressed in t-shirts and  basketball shoes. They all stared at her with surprise. Clawdeen paused for a second. 

“Uh...hi,” she greeted, turning to face them. She looked behind her to see the empty love seat near the corner and slowly sat down. She brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Laura and Clawd left them alone for a few minutes to get their coats and put their shoes on. 

The guys sat quietly, awaiting her to get comfortable. As she did, Clawdeen took little notes about their appearances; like her friends, they had undergone certain changes. Both of Deuce’s arms were covered in tattoos and he spo rted a nose ring. Manny had cut his hair and both him and Heath had grown out their facial hair so they now both had goatees on their chins. Romulus and Dougey looked a little more rugged, but other than a few tattoos that Romulus had on his arm that she could see, they didn’t see like they had changed too much. 

“Clawd said you...you were back,” Heath spoke up, “How...have you been?” 

“Fine,” Clawdeen said, “Just you know...settling.” 

The guys nodded. Romulus glanced down at her leggings. “Th at’s a cute outfit you’re wearing,” he commented, “You going somewhere?” 

_My therapist ordered me to on account of I’m actually suffering a pretty bad case of ego death since my only sense of fashion for the past few years has been what clothes are the sexiest that would guarantee an easy lay within the hour,_ Clawdeen thought. Of course, she kept this to herself. 

“No...” Clawdeen answered, “I just...thought I’d get a little dressed up today.” 

Romulus nodded, “Well, you look great.” 

Clawdeen’s cheeks burned red. “Thank you.” 

She turned to Deuce as a thought came to her. She said, “Cleo told me about the baby. Congratulations.” 

Deuce smiled, “Thanks. I was pretty freaked out when we first got the news, but  now, I’m pretty excited, to be honest.” 

A thought came to him and he made a face. “Though, probably not excited as our  _families_ . I swear, my mom and Ramses have been trying to ‘out-grandparent’ each other so much, we probably already have enough baby supplies fro the entire neighborhood. It hasn’t even been the first trimester yet.” 

Clawdeen giggled at that. She shifted in her sea t. “Well, I’m happy for you. It’s good at least there seems to be a common ground you finally found, right?” 

“Yeah,” Deuce agreed, “...That was after Ramses got over wanting to _murder_ me.” 

“You should’ve seen it,” Heath said, “He practically chased him all the way down to Portland waving his crook and flail at him.” 

The image made Clawdeen burst out laughing. It made the dimples at the corners of her eyes come out and brightened up her feature. Deuce and the guys smiled along with her,  though Romulus shot Clawd a silent look. The brown wolf was looking in Clawdeen’s direction, though, looking grateful to see her smile. It had been a long time since he’d seen Clawdeen genuinely smile. 

“Did you want to come with us for lunch?” Romulus asked, “We were thinking of going to the bar afterward, having a few drinks.” 

Clawdeen  shook her head, shifting on her seat again, “No thanks. I don’t think I’m really in the mood for going out today.  Besides, I don’t have and ID yet. They wouldn’t let me in.” 

“Are you sure?” Clawd asked, coming back into the room, “We could pick something up for you, if you want...” 

He got another head shake. Clawdeen looked up at him, smiling at him reassurance. 

“I’ll be fine,” she answered, “I was thinking of having some leftovers anyway.” 

Clawd looked like he  wanted to insist, but he kept it to himself and just nodded. Instead, he zipped up his coat and looked at the guys. 

“Everyone ready to go?” he asked. 

The guys nodded and stood up, gathering up their things. Laura and Clawd both turned to Clawdeen and gave her a hug. 

“We’ll try to come by later,” Laura said, “You sure you don’t want us to get you anything?” 

“I’m fine,” Clawdeen insisted. 

She couldn’t help but press herself into the couch as she watched the guys get up. Call it instinct, but as they stood up, she was reminded of how tall they all were. They all still carried muscle even after school. 

If they all decided to lunge for her and pin her down, there was no way she could fight back against them. They could easily rip her out of the seat and tear her clothes off in seconds before she even had a chance to stiffen up. 

It was a disturbing thought.  Clawdeen tried to push it out of her mind; these were her friends, she tried telling herself. They wouldn’t ever hurt her like that. 

_That’s what you said about Gem,_ some snarky part of her said,  _And look where we are._

Her claws dug into the skin of her shins at it. Her face, though, remained passive as she waved by to all of them as they made their way to the front door and headed out.

“Hey, Clawdeen?”

She looked up. Deuce stood by the chair, looking down at her with his brows furrowed in concern. Clawdeen blinked at him.

“Yeah?” she asked.

He didn’t respond right away. Deuce rubbed his neck and looked at the door. Clawd and the others were distracted in conversation. As he turned back to Clawdeen, he reached into the back pocket of his jeans.

“Here,” he offered.

He took something out and handed it to her. Clawdeen knitted her brows together in confusion. It was a pamphlet of some sorts. She took it from Deuce and glanced at it.

_Don’t Go In Alone: Services for Survivors of Sexual Violence_

Clawdeen froze as she read the title. Her grip tightened on the pamphlet.

“It’s a support group,” Deuce explained, “My mom goes to them pretty frequently. It’s confidential and it’s all-species inclusive.”

Clawdeen slowly opened the pamphlet and read what was printed on it. Listed in little bullet points were statistics about sexual assault and numbers of various hotlines a person could call, alongside little pictures of people being comforted or sitting curled up, alone.

She stared at the words for a few seconds. Then, slowly, Clawdeen lifted her head and stared at him.

“How does...she feel about it?” she asked in a small voice.

Deuce smiled, “She said it...it really helps. A lot.”

Clawdeen nodded absentmindedly. Deuce then said, “If ever you feel like it, just call her. She could go with you to them.”

He started for the door. “I just thought you’d be interested. That way...you know, you maybe had others you could talk to.”

This time, there was no response. Clawdeen kept looking down at the pamphlet. Her emotions were unreadable from her eyes.

“Deuce? You coming?” Clawd called from the front door.

“Yeah,” Deuce said. He gave Clawdeen one last final look, before he turned and headed out as well.

Clawdeen kept her gaze glued to the pamphlet as she heard the front and screen door shut. A minute later, she could hear their car engines start and all of them pull out. Her eyes wandered over the words, re-reading the information and little slogans, though she wasn’t really processing any of it.

A support group.

Another situation in which she’d be talking about total strangers of everything she went through. Clawdeen felt her stomach lurch.

“...What do you think?”

She glanced up. Clawrk stood in the doorway of the kitchen, washing his hands with a dish towel. He had just finished unloading the dishwasher. Clawdeen tilted her head at him, not getting the question.

Clawrk nodded to the pamphlet in her hands. “What do you think about going? To one of those meetings?”

Clawdeen paused. She looked back at the pamphlet, contemplating the thought. Sighing, she leaned back in her seat.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, “I just...I don’t know.”

She stared off at the wall, fiddling with the pamphlet. Clawrk watched her for a few seconds, before he slowly came towards her and rested a hand on her shoulder. Clawdeen looked up at him.

“Give it some thought,” he advised, “It might help you more than you think. They’re for people who understand what you’ve gone through.”

Clawdeen turned her gaze back to the pamphlet, looking down at it with a troubled expression. Clawrk glanced at the wall. It was a little past eleven. In the dining room, Nino sat silently, awaiting to see if there was anything he could do.

“Are you hungry?” he asked Clawdeen, “I was thinking of using last night’s taco meat to make quesadillas for everyone. That sound good?”

He managed to tear Clawdeen’s focus away from the pamphlet as she smiled up at him.

“Quesadillas sound good,” she commented.

Clawrk smirked, “I’ll even make you a loaded one, like that one from the Hexican restaurant you like so much. The one with the guacamole and sour cream and everything.”

This time, he managed to get a bigger smile out of his daughter. Clawdeen’s stomach rumbled in delight at the thought.

“Thanks, Dad,” she said.

Clawrk reached down and kissed her forehead, “No problem, my pup.”

* * *

In the end, Clawdeen did decide to go.

She looked out at the gymnasium anxiously, watching as other women and girls walked in. The parking lot was surprisingly still full for it being almost eight at night. A few yards away from the gym, she could see monsters working in some of the spare classrooms on campus, presumably night-school students.

“You okay?” Harriet asked, “If you’re having second thoughts, we can always try again another time.”

“N-N-No, I’m fine,” Clawdeen said, pulling down her coat. The temperature had fallen drastically as the sun went down and she was freezing. She smoothed down her coat, before gathering up the spare phone they had lent her and putting it in her pocket.

She turned to her mom, “If we done early, I’ll call you.”

Harriet nodded, “Ten o’clock, right on the dot.”

She reached over and squeezed her hand. “It’ll be fine.”

“I know,” Clawdeen said, leaning over to kiss her cheek, before she turned and unlocked her door.

Her breath made puffs of air in front of her as she hurried towards the double doors that she saw the other girls entering through, where they said the meeting was taking place. Clawdeen shoved her hands in her pockets, already beginning to feel her fingers lose feeling in them.

She buried her chin in the collar of her coat, looking around. Now, she seemed to be the only one in the parking lot. The sky was completely black, while the street lights lining the student lots washed out any starlight that was probably there.

As she approached the doors, Clawdeen felt the pit in her stomach deepen. She really had no reason to be nervous- the meeting was for other survivors, and there was a specific no phones or cameras rule- but there was still a fear of judgment that hung over her. It was illogical, but Clawdeen couldn’t quite shake it.

She stopped in front of the double doors. Through their mesh-wire windows, she could see various monster women and even a few men sitting in steel folding chairs that had been gathered in a circle in the middle of the casketball court. A few feet in front of them, a sign that read _Life After Assault: Trauma Recovery_ stood on a tripod.

Clawdeen reached out. Her hand hovered over the push bar hesitantly. She turned to look over her shoulder.

From the car, Harriet raised her a thumbs up. _You got this,_ the matriarch wolf mouthed from the windshield.

Taking a deep breath, Clawdeen pushed the door open and headed in.

Her footsteps sounded way too loud as they echoed throughout the empty gym, the heel of her ankle boots clacking against the hard wood. As she approached the circle, Clawdeen stiffened as everyone turned in their seats to glance in her direction. She stopped.

Among them, she was surprised to see Deuce’s mom sitting in the back, dressed in a long sleeved baby blue floral dress and wearing a pair of rhinestone sunglasses. There were even a few other faces that Clawdeen realized were vaguely familiar. It then occurred to her that, of course, Deuce had said his mom came to these.  _ Of course,  _ she thought,  _ Medusa, greek myth, practically can’t have a story without some girl getting raped at one point or another.  _

One of the women in the circle, a black werecat with silver streaks in her jet black hair and gold eyes lined with crows feet, turned in her seat and smiled at her.

“Hello there,” she greeted gently, “Would you like to sit down?”

Clawdeen wouldn’t meet her eyes as she nodded and shuffled over to the nearest empty seat. She sat between a gargoyle with blonde hair and glasses and a butch-presenting butterfly woman who had her pink hair cropped short and sat with her arms crossed.

As Clawdeen settled, the werecat woman turned back to the group and leaned forward.

“Well, it seems everyone who planned on coming is here now, so I think we can get started,” she began, “For those of you who are new, my name is Jet, and I’ll be leading the meetings that take place at this time. Before we do, though, I think it’s imperative we set some ground rules.

“The number one thing: this is NOT a place of judgment,” she spoke softly, “We are not here to blame, we are not here to compare who’s had it worse or who was ‘luckier’, we are not here to belittle other’s experiences. We are here because we have all survived the experiences of this horrible, disgusting act, and would like to confide in others who get us.”

She looked out among the guests as she continued, “It’s also important that everyone remembers that _nobody_ is at fault for what happened to them. No matter who you are, or your sexual history or what you did or said, nothing excuses assault. Consent to one time is _not_ consent to every other time, coercive consent made under pressure or the threat of harm is _not_ consent. Silence is not consent; the lack of a ‘no’ does not equal a ‘yes’.”

Clawdeen and everyone nodded. Sitting up straighter, the werecat took another look around the room.

“With that, I think we can begin,” she said, “I see we have a new faces with us, so how about we start with a few icebreakers? For everyone who’s willing, how about we hear your name, your favorite flower, aaaand how about just some random fact about you? If you don’t feel like talking, you can just say ‘pass’ and we’ll move on. Anyone want to start us off?”

There were no volunteers initially. Then, slowly, a ghoul raised her hand. She looked like a living, life-sized doll, with ball joints peaking out above her knee-high socks and her light-pink dress being a Lolita style. Her right cheek had several cracks in it, like it’d been shattered and glued back together.

“I-I-I-I’m, um, Lain,” she greeted.

“Hi, Lain,” everyone replied.

She continued, “M-My favorite flower is, um, a rose, and I, um...I like to paint.”

There were a few murmurs of agreement among the crowd. The doll looked on either side of her, before the air elemental on her right raised his hands. Jet gave him a nod of encouragment.

“Uh, hi, my name’s Aeron,” he said.

“Hi, Aeron.”

“My favorite flower is bougainvillea, and I have a twin...”

On and on, it went, going counterclockwise around the circle, before it finally came to Clawdeen. A few people skipped, leaving the attention on her faster than she had planned. Clawdeen shifted in her seat, all too aware of all the eyes on her.

“Um, I-I’m Clawdeen,” she stated.

“Hi, Clawdeen,” the rest of the group said. The butterfly and gargoyle stared at her from either side.

“My favorite flower is...” she struggled to remember the name of one Cleo had showed her, “Wisteria? And...I don’t like playing soccer with closed-toed shoes.”

That earned her a few chuckles from the others. It was the most random thing she remembered at that moment, but she thought it was something unique to her. The way she always loved feeling the ball against her feet, even when it meant she stubbed her toes or her siblings stepping on her feet and made it hurt like hell.

As the last few people went through their introductions, Jet said that the floor was open and everyone could talk about what they wanted. Of course, people should be sensitive to others who wanted to speak so that everyone could get a chance to talk, but unless a person veered off track or got aggressive towards others in their statements, nothing was off limits.

Clawdeen sat and listened as the talking began. She grimaced in discomfort as she heard the various stories being told- one woman told of how she was still still struggling to cope with the sexual abuse she’d endured by her cousin as a child, one girl admitted she still felt love for her abusive ex boyfriend who assaulted her on prom night, another man tearfully recalled being assaulted as a teenager by one of his teammates. Many of them were so similar in detail to the kinds of things she recalled going through in DC that at one point Clawdeen thought she would have to excuse herself. At one point she thought she was going to be sick.

Through it, Jet calmly talked to everyone, telling them that whatever emotions they were experiencing were normal. That everyone recovered from trauma at their own time and it wasn’t a race. At one point, when everyone, including Clawdeen, seemed on the edge of fainting, she had them all stop for a second and do a meditation.

“Breathe in,” Jet said, mimicking the gesture with her hands as she closed her eyes, “Breathe out. You’re not there anymore. _They’re_ not here. They can’t hurt you. They have no power here.”

Clawdeen went along with the exercises, even though she was unsure of how exactly meditation was supposed to work. Even though, to her surprise, as she took another deep breath, it did help to calm her and keep her from freaking out.

She didn’t end up talking. Nobody seemed to mind.

Instead, she continued to listen as the others talked about the effects that their experiences had on their unlives. They talked about feeling guilty, fearful of it happening again, and their worries that they wouldn’t be able to get over it. Some ranted about the issues that it was having on their romantic and intimate lives, while others lamented their trust issues they found they now had with others, whether it was strangers on the street or the people in their own families who lacked the sympathy that was needed.

One girl talked about how her relationship with her father was estranged, as he couldn’t understand why she was uncomfortable around him in the wake of what had happened to her, but as the girl said, her attack had left her with an inherent fear of men.

It was almost frightening to Clawdeen how much of her own feelings and struggles she found in the girl’s story.

She also listened as Jet gave them advice on how to process these feelings and come to terms with them; healthy coping mechanisms, ways of thinking through rational versus irrational thoughts, what to keep in mind.

Even though she ended up not saying a word after her introduction, Clawdeen did find she felt a bit better. A bit...lighter. There wasn’t so much weight on her chest, at least.

Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all…

Before she knew it, Jet looked at her watch and announced, “Well, everyone, I’m afraid we have run out of time, so it seems we’ll have to call this meeting to a close. As always, though, we meet here every Thursday from eight to ten, as well as Sundays, three to five.”

She stood up and gestured to a far table, “There are snacks and drinks available for those who would maybe like to stick around and chat as we clean up. Otherwise, I hope all of you have a good weekend and I’ll see you next week.”

Clawdeen and the others stood up and helped to put the chairs back. There were pots of coffee and cookies being served on the back tables, but she didn’t think she had the stomach to eat anything right now.

She raised her head as she saw Maddie coming towards her, the gorgon wearing a gentle smile on her face as she her her coat and purse in her hands. Clawdeen stood off to the side so she wasn’t in anyone’s way.

“Hello, Clawdeen,” Maddie greeted, stopping in front of her.

“Hi, Miss Gorgon.”

Maddie reached out and fondly touched her arm, “I was surprised to see you here. You first time at one of these?”

Clawdeen nodded in confirmation, “Y-Yeah. Deuce was the one who recommended it to me, a-actually. He gave me a pamphlet.”

“So, what do you think?” Maddie asked in a low voice, “Your mother told me you’re already seeing a therapist. How do you feel now?”

“I...” Clawdeen paused. She stuck her hands in her coat and looked out at the gym. Some of the guests had gone off to the sides and were talking with each other as they drank coffee and nibbled on cookies. She could see a few others outside, sitting on the curb of the parking lot as they smoked. Jet was talking with her coworker as they packed up.

Finally, she turned back to Maddie. “I...It’s not so bad. It’s...something, to hear other people talk about what they went through. To know you’re...you know, not the only one to have had those thoughts.”

“Yeah,” Maddie turned to look throughout the gym herself, “Believe me, I was hesitant at first, too. Three centuries of being a recluse doesn’t exactly build you social skills, especially when it comes to telling people your dirty laundry who don’t even know your name.”

She turned back to Clawdeen, “But it’s nice to have a place to be able to vent. To be able to let it all out and know that people, for the most part, know exactly where you’re coming from and that nobody’s going to look at you weirdly or suggest you had it coming.”

Clawdeen agreed. It was nice; it was a bit of a relief to have people who could put into words what you were feeling when you couldn’t describe it yourself. When you didn’t have the strength to.

As she pulled her purse onto her shoulder, Maddie asked her, “Do you need a ride home? I need to stop and get gas real quick, but I could drop you off if you want.”

Clawdeen shook her head, “My mom’s coming.”

“That’s good,” Maddie said.

They walked out the doors together. The other people from the meeting spared them brief glances as they got onto the sidewalk. Clawdeen could see her mom’s car just pulling in to a space a few ways down. Maddie walked along with her as they approached her.

Clawdeen turned to her and asked, “Do...you happen to have any other pamphlets I could see? For stuff like this?”

Maddie nodded, “Of course. I’ll bring them to your house in the next few days- I already have all the numbers and schedules written down.”

“Thanks,” Clawdeen said. She allowed Maddie to give her a brief hug, before she pulled away.

“Have a good night, Clawdeen,” Maddie said. She looked over and waved to Harriet as she caught the she-wolf’s eye. Harriet waved back.

“You too,” Clawdeen said.

She watched the gorgon walk away, before she turned and headed in the direction of where her mom was parked.

“I didn’t know Maddie was here,” Harriet commented as Clawdeen climbed in and buckled her seat belt.

Clawdeen replied, “Deuce says she comes to these pretty regularly. She said she’d give me some info for other groups.”

Harriet raised her brow at that. “Other groups? So, does that mean you want to try this again?”

Sitting back in her seat, Clawdeen looked out at the gymnasium, where she could see Jet finally walk out as she finally turned the lights off and locked the door. She turned back to her mom.

“Yeah, I do,” she said, “It does help. A little bit.”

She knew it wouldn’t magically undo all her trauma (as much as she wished), but Clawdeen thought she did feel a bit better.

And sometimes, Clawdeen remembered Jennifur telling her before they ended their session, a little bit was all you could give.

It seemed to ring true especially for Clawdeen, as that night when she went to bed, for the first time in months, she slept soundlessly without any nightmares, and woke up in peace.


	8. Chapter 7: A Whirlwind of a Morning

Clawdeen couldn’t sleep.

It had to be way past midnight already. Through the curtains, she could see the outside world was pitch black, save for the small streak of moonlight that crept in and highlighted a spot on the floor. Above her, she could hear Howleen fast asleep. Crescent was as well as she lay near the foot of the bed, now nothing more than a purring furry fat lump. On the wall, the clock ticked on and on, each second seemingly going faster and faster.

Clawdeen couldn’t, though. She under the covers, staring up at the bottom of the top bunk. She was completely still, but inside her mind, her thoughts were racing like they were on hyper speed.

Tomorrow was the trial.

In only a few hours, Archie Opteryx would be in Washington DC, representing her as he argued and made a case to the judge overseeing the whole thing as to why Aran needed to go to prison. Him and a couple of other lawyers, who’d been representing the other girls, would explain in no short detail what was done to Clawdeen, what she was forced to do, how Aran contributed to the whole thing as a means to show how dangerous he was as a person.

All the while, they’d be facing off against a team of other lawyers- no doubt the best of the best, considering all the money Aran and the guys had to have had- who would try and explain how Aran was innocent, or at least not as complicit or as guilty as it seemed like. Somehow, they’d tried to showcase how Aran didn’t deserve a harsh sentence even with everything he did to Clawdeen.

If Archie and them had their way, then hopefully Aran, Grady, and the others would be found guilty. Then, hopefully, prison for a long time, if not for life.

If Aran got his way, then there was a chance he’d get off without so much as a kick in the seat.

Clawdeen felt her claws clench into the mattress. Her heart thumped hard against her rib cage.

If Aran went free, there was no telling what he’ do to her in revenge. Clawdeen didn’t even want to think about the types of ways he could get back at her; whatever they were, though, she wouldn’t put it past him to do it.

It started getting hot under the duvet as her body temperature started heating up. It felt as if she could almost see her heart banging against the inside of her chest. She could feel herself start to tremble as her thoughts wandered back to Aran and the memory of what he looked like when he was angry.

That horrible, horrible darkness in his eyes when he was angry…

Clawdeen shut her eyes tightly, as if that could dispel the image from her mind. She tried to steady her breathing to calm herself down. Her body ached with the need for rest, but her brain was high alert and wouldn’t allow it. She tried to make herself doze off anyway.

She didn’t know how long it was before she fell asleep. All she remembered once she woke up, however, was that it had felt like an eternity.

* * *

_She was in a basement, naked, and chained to a pole in the wall. Her body was covered in bruises, cuts, and burns. Her legs looked like they’d been made of grape jelly with how severely discolored they were._

_Clawdeen was curled into a ball. She looked around the concrete room, unsure as to how she got here. She looked to the pole and pulled on the chain. A long metal chain had been wrapped around both her wrists and secured with a heavy padlock. Another one kept it in place from where the opposite end had been looped around the pole. It wouldn’t budge an inch._

_Whimpering, Clawdeen tried harder. Through some means, though, her body was terribly sore, and she could barely even move her arms. She sat up on her knees, glancing around at the ceiling of the room fearfully. It was dim and cold and way too quiet._

“ _H-H-Help!” she cried out hoarsely, “H-Help! Is anyone there?”_

_She heard footsteps thudding above her. Clawdeen stiffened. Her hands grasped the chain in a white knuckle grip to the point her fingers hurt._

_The footsteps got closer. She could hear them right outside the door on the other end of the room. Whoever was coming by was whistling._

_The door opened. She saw a pair of hooves sticking out from under the cuffs of some distressed dark washed jeans._

_Clawdeen felt her stomach twist into a tight, painful knot. It was like she’d just been splashed with a bucket of cold water._

“ _No...” she whined pitifully._

_Aran didn’t acknowledge her as he came down the stairs. He continued to whistle nonchalantly, like he was just having a casual day. The sound of his hooves hitting the solid concrete steps sounded like harsh claps of thunder as they echoed through the vast emptiness of the basement._

_As he stepped off the last one, Aran turned so that he was fully facing her. He stopped whistling. His eyes looked at Clawdeen through his shaggy bangs like pale blue searchlights. Clawdeen whimpered and shied away from him; she pressed herself up against the pole and raised her arms in front of her chest._

“ _N-No,” she exclaimed tearfully, “No, no!”_

_Aran just stared at her. His expression was impassive as he tilted his head, observing her like she was something he’d never seen before._

“ _Didn’t I tell you there’d be consequences for you leaving?” he asked in a soft voice._

_Clawdeen burst into tears. She sobbed heavily._

“ _HELP!” she screamed desperately up at the ceiling, “SOMEONE! HELP ME!”_

“ _Nobody’s going to here you, ‘Deenie,” Aran said; his voice could’ve almost sounded sad if she didn’t know any better, “In fact, nobody’s going to hear you_ ever _again. I doubt anyone even knows that you’re gone. Or cares. You were always too much of an uppity little bitch for your own good.”_

_He reached into his pocket and pulled something out. It was a small black rectangle shape with metal prongs facing each other at one end. Clawdeen felt her breath hitch when she saw it was his stun gun._

“ _No matter. I’ll still be here,” Aran said, “I know how much you enjoyed our playtime together.”_

“ _N-No, NO!” Clawdeen screamed as he started coming towards her, “G-Get away from me! GET AWAY! HELP! SOMEBODY HELP-!”_

* * *

The loud melody of a ringtone alarm yanked Clawdeen from her hellish dreamland. Her eyes shot open; her body was stiff under the duvet and sheets, like she’d been paralyzed. She breathed heavily through her nose, feeling herself break out in a sweat. She shook worse now to the point that she felt like she was vibrating on the whole bed.

 _It was only a nightmare_ , she tried telling herself. She prayed she hadn’t been screaming in her sleep again, _It was only a nightmare. He’s not here, he’s not here, he’s not here…_

Above her, she could hear Howleen rustle around on her bunk. The mattress squeaked and rocked under her weight, before a second later, Clawdeen saw her foot lower onto the top step of the ladder on the right side.

She watched as Howleen climbed down onto the floor; she stretched her arms above her head and gave a tired groan, before she quietly shuffled over to her desk. Clawdeen saw there was a change of clothes in her seat as Howleen began changing out of her pajamas into them.

“Howleen?” Clawdeen finally called out to her.

“Oh shit!” Howleen hissed as she jumped at the sudden noise. She whirled around to face Clawdeen, her arms still crossed across her chest from where she’d been pulling on a sports bra, her eyes wide with startlement. Clawdeen herself jumped at the reaction.

Seeing that it was only her sister, Howleen relaxed. “Sorry,” she whispered, “Did I wake you?”

Clawdeen shook her head. It was a lie, but she was grateful for it; she didn’t want to think about how that nightmare could’ve gone if it’d been able to play out longer and torment her. She looked down at the younger wolf’s outfit. Howleen wore a pair of leggings under some workout shorts and was just about to put on her old soccer jersey.

“Where are you going?” Clawdeen asked, though she already had a guess.

“Rocks and I are going to go out for a run,” Howleen murmured.

Everything about her body felt heavy with exhaustion and her mind was fuzzy, but Clawdeen didn’t think she could go back to sleep even if she wanted to. She was too paranoid that the second she dropped off, she was going to find herself back at whatever hellscape her imagination had dreamed up.

So, instead, she asked Howleen, “Could...Could I come with you?”

Howleen paused, surprised. Slowly, a small smile tugged at her lips.

“Sure,” she said. However, her brows furrowed as she suddenly seemed to notice something about Clawdeen.

“Are you okay?” she asked, “You look pale.”

“I’m fine,” Clawdeen replied, throwing back the covers and getting out of bed before her sister could further analyze her, “I just have a bit of a cold. Just give me a few seconds.”

She made her way over to her dresser and ruffled through the drawers for a second to pull out some workout clothes. She settled on a purple mandala-patterned leggings and a black t-shirt as Howleen was putting her hair- currently dyed bright yellow and styled into twists- into a ponytail.

As she dressed, Clawdeen smirked as she took in Howleen’s hair. She commented, “We probably don’t need any reflective gear. Your hair is sure to serve as a natural night light for everyone.”

Howleen turned and stuck her tongue out at her. “You’re just jealous just you _know_ you can’t rock this color.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m so glad I can’t go out looking like I have a griffin’s egg yolk all over my head,” Clawdeen joked.

She giggled and scurried out of the way as Howleen whirled around and tossed one of her socks at her. The younger she-wolf hissed “Bitch!” and gave Clawdeen a sour look, but it quickly melted as she gave way to her own fit of chuckles. They both quickly quieted down, though, realizing how early it still was, and finished getting ready.

Howleen pulled on a floral exercise jacket as Clawdeen put her hair in a simple ponytail. They then both sat down and pulled on their socks, before they grabbed their tennis shoes and tiptoed downstairs. Rocks was already in the living room, wearing a windbreaker and sweat pants and lacing up his shoes. He wore a sweatband to keep his wild auburn curls out of his face.

He glanced up as his sisters approached; his eyes widened when he saw Clawdeen.

“Hey,” he greeted in a low, slightly astonished, “You coming with us?”

Clawdeen nodded, “If that’s okay?”

“Yeah,” Rocks grinned, “The more, the merrier.”

They all sat on the couch and put their shoes on. When they were done, all three of them stood up and made their way to the front door. Rocks sent a text on his phone and swiped one of the house keys off the rack as they passed by; he waited by the front door to allow the girls to walk out after him before he stepped out onto the porch and locked it behind him.

Putting her hands on her hips, Howleen looked between her brother and sister. “So,” she asked, “Where should we go?”

“How about the trail that leads to the water?” Rocks suggested. He glanced at Clawdeen, “It’s quiet, and the air smells really good the closer you get to the beach.”

“Y-Yeah, that...that sounds good,” Clawdeen said.

They all stepped off the porch. Rocks and Howleen double checked the time on their phones, before they all got into position, in a row with Clawdeen in the middle, started jogging.

“Just let us know if you need to take a break, ‘Deen,” Rocks said in between pants, “I know it’s probably been a while since you’ve been able to work out, so just say something if you think we’re moving too fast.”

“I know,” Clawdeen grumbled, a bit annoyed at feeling babied. She did appreciate the concern, though, so she let it go.

They jogged through the neighborhood, the only sounds echoing through it being the padding of their shoes hitting against the sidewalk and their increasing pants. On the horizon, the sun was just starting to rise and thus gave just the faintest hint of pink to the sky. It was dark enough that the streetlights were still on, though, and their shadows trailed behind them like wandering familiars at their heels.

As they ran, Clawdeen looked at the houses they passed by. Most of them she recognized, although she could also see they had all since changed since she had last been here. Some of the houses she remembered having families in them now had For Sale Signs on the lawn and realtor’s key boxes on the front handles. Others that had small children at the time she was in high school were now noticeably cleaner, with the myriad of toys that littered the lawn and porches now gone. A few had either more or less cars in their driveways than she remembered, or completely different models now.

By the time they made it to the bike trail, all three of them had already begun to breathe heavily and lightly sweat. Clawdeen was noticeably panting harder than her siblings; she winced as she could feel a stitch start to tease at her side. It had been so long since she was able to exercise and it was obvious; her calves and thighs were already beginning to lightly burn with exertion. Her throat was dry and parched.

Clawdeen did her best to ignore it and tried to keep up with her siblings. Rocks and Howleen were keeping a steady pace like they weren’t even bothered. It made Clawdeen feel a bit resentful with herself; she felt like a newborn pup who’d just learned to walk compared to them.

“Is...that...a new...trail?” she asked as they passed by a worn path leading off the middle of the trail that led into the woods, past the old worn down fence that she remembered use to be closed off since it led to the golf course.

Howleen looked in the direction she was pointing and nodded, “They tore...the gold course down...about...two years ago? So...everyone just...started going there...as a short cut.”

Clawdeen nodded and turned back to the front. By now, the sunrise was slowly increasing, allowing the three of them to see better without the need for their night vision. Houses were now starting to light up as their tenants woke up and started getting ready for the day.

They stopped at a crosswalk at the end of the bike trail that intersected one of the entrances for the park. The Wolf siblings jogged in place as they looked both ways, before they started to cross.

Right as they got midway, though, a car suddenly came speeding around the corner. Its headlights blinded Clawdeen and them and washed them out in bright white light as it barreled towards them; the driver hadn’t even stopped at the stop sign.

They all shouted in alarm and stumbled back to keep from being hit as the driver slammed on their brakes. Clawdeen’s ears twitched in pain and she picked up the smell of burning rubber as the tires squealed against the asphalt. She squinted in the harsh light that seared her eyes, trying to see who was behind the wheel.

Her vision adjusted and she froze as she saw the car.

It was a black Corvette.

Just like the one Aran owned.

It felt like she had just had the wind knocked out of her.

No...he….he couldn’t be here…

_He was here. He escaped somehow. He escaped somehow and had figured out where she lived and now was going to hurt her. He was going to hurt her, he found her, she would never be able to get away, she-_

Oblivious to their sister’s internal panic, Howleen and Rocks growled at the car. Howleen marched towards the front of the car and kicked its front bumper.

“Watch where you’re going, jackass!” she yelled out.

“If you turned those stupid fucking LEDs off, you’d see the sign says it’s twenty-five!” Rocks snapped, pointing to the posted speed limit to the side of them.

“S-S-Sorry!” the driver said, leaning out his window.

Clawdeen, who was now on the verge of hyperventilating, suddenly paused at the sound of his voice. _Wait a minute,_ she thought. It didn’t sound like Aran at all.

Breathing heavily, she looked passed the headlights to the driver. He was a Sasquatch who looked barely even old enough to drive, who had his long dark brown hair pulled back in a ponytail and a severely apologetic look in his yellowish-brown eyes.

Confused, Clawdeen looked back down at the car. Now that it was lighter out and her eyes were used to the glare, she could see that the car was actually dark blue, not black. It wasn’t even a Corvette at all, she realized. It was actually a Lexus RC. Oh.

“Sorry about that,” the driver said again, leaning back in his seat, “I’m glad nobody’s hurt.”

“Whatever,” Howleen spat at him.

As he sped away, her and Rocks glared at the back of it sourly.

“Can you believe that guy?” Rocks was asking as he turned to face Clawdeen, “Total fucking show-off. Probably one of those trust fund babies that moved in where the De Niles live. You okay Claw...Clawdeen? Hey, you all right?”

Howleen, noting the sudden change in her brother’s voice, turned to face Clawdeen. The older brown wolf’s face was deathly pale, and her eyes seemed to have grown to the size of dinner plates. She was staring in the direction of the car like it had been the fourth horseman on his pale stallion.

Rocks stepped towards her and put a hand on her arm. “Clawdeen?”

Clawdeen snapped out of her daze and looked to him, momentarily like he was a total stranger. She then seemed to come back to herself and blinked, her hand coming up to rest at her temple.

“Wha...um, yeah, I’m okay, sorry,” she said, “I just...I just thought...”

She wouldn’t finish. Rocks and Howleen continued to stare at her, awaiting her answer.

“Just thought what? Come on, sis, sit down, for a moment,” Rocks ordered, taking her hand and directing her to sit on the curb, “You look like you were about to faint. What happened?”

Clawdeen sat down and pulled her knees up to her chest. She crossed her arms under her thighs and hugged them to her chest, keeping her gaze directed at the toes of her tennis shoes.

“I just thought...” she finally answered, shyly looking up at the both of them, “I-I thought it was someone else for a second.”

Howleen furrowed her brows. The answer immediately clicked for her. She asked, “You thought it was Hoofstein, wasn’t you?”

“Hoovestein,” Clawdeen corrected, “And...yeah. I-I thought it was his car for a second.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She felt her cheeks flush with shame at the overreaction. Of course Aran wouldn’t be here; surely the police would’ve called them to let them know. Wouldn’t they?

Or maybe not. Maybe Aran had people working on the inside who “conveniently” gave him a window to get out before the courtroom could even be gathered. Clawdeen wouldn’t put it past him to do something like that. She had quickly learned to never underestimate what men like him were capable of.

“Clawdeen...hey,” Rocks said. He turned and sat down next to her, putting his arms around her to give her a hug. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re just stressed about the trial and stuff have a lot of things on your mind. It’s okay if you’re on edge.”

“Except it’s _not_ okay,” Clawdeen countered, pulling away from him to look in his eyes, “You...you guys don’t know what it’s like. This is just the first day of who knows how fucking long this thing will be? It could months or even _years_ before Aran and them get a sentence. If they even get one at all.”

Howleen frowned, “You don’t actually think they’re going to get away with this, do you? Clawdeen, they caught him at the scene with you. They caught him _hurting_ you. There’s no way he’s going to walk out without some kind of sentence.”

“Isn’t there, though?” Clawdeen asked, staring up at her sister doubtfully, “How many celebrities have you heard of being exposed as being predators, or spouse beaters, or having committed some kind of felony and never having served even so much as community service because of their money? Aran and them… you guys don’t understand how they are. They know h-how to talk to people, they know what to say or how to act to get any kind of suspicion off their backs. And whatever kind of lawyers they argued, I just know Aran’s going to pull whatever strings he can to get off.”

She rested her chin on her knees. There was a troubled, fearful look in her eyes as she stared off into the patch of woods. In the grass, she could see a bunny hiding.

“A-And even if Aran gets punished, w-who’s to say it’ll end there? It’s five of them, but what about the guys who helped them transport me and all those other girls to places like DC?” she questioned, a fresh burst of anxiousness overtaking her, “What about all those...those other men who paid for my services? What about Gem and Striggy- who’s to say they’re not out there now, in some other city, waiting for some other ghoul to butter up and take when she’s most vulnerable, who….what, why are you two looking like that?”

She was about to ramble further, but as she glanced up, she saw Howleen and Rocks share a look between them at the mention of Gem and Striggy.

“What?” Clawdeen repeated.

“Mom and Dad didn’t tell you, did they?” Rocks asked.

Clawdeen furrowed her brows, confused. “Didn’t tell me...what?”

Howleen sighed and took her place on Clawdeen’s other side, so now the three of them were all sitting on the curb. It was probably dangerous if any more cars came by, but right now, nobody really cared or thought about it.

“Gem and Striggy you won’t have to worry about,” Howleen said, sliding an arm around her shoulders, “They’ll never bother you again.”

Clawdeen stared at her. She glanced left and right between her and Rocks. “Wait, why? What happened?”

“They’re in jail, Clawdeen,” Rocks answered.

Her ponytail whacked Howleen in the nose as Clawdeen whipped her head in his direction. She gaped at Rocks, her mouth a perfect O-shape.

“W….What?” Clawdeen asked, her voice barely audible.

Rocks nodded in confirmation and patted her knee. He took a deep breath and looked ahead at the woods.

“Six months after you went missing, the police called us...” he began.

* * *

_(Five years ago…)_

“ _And you’re sure nobody matching her description was seen at all during these last few weeks….Okay...No, thank you for all your help...You, too. Bye.”_

_Howleen felt her ears lower as she heard Clawd hang up the phone, a heavy sigh escaping him afterward. She perked her head up as he walked back into the living room a second later and collapsed on the couch next to her. He had a weary look in his eyes._

“ _Nothing?” she asked._

_Clawd shook his head, “They said they checked all their security footage and looked over all their records. No teen werewolves in sight.”_

_Howleen nodded, though internally, she felt something in her chest tighten and ache. Months later, nobody- not the police, not their parents, or them and their friends- had managed to find any trace of where Clawdeen could’ve been._

_Now, as they marched steadily from summer into autumn, the cops had told their parents that unless some other clues opened up, there was little more they could do. The family could hire a private investigator if they wanted, but other than that, the police would have no choice but to declare Clawdeen’s disappearance a cold case._

_The Wolfs had worked tirelessly to try and search for any lead they could on Clawdeen. Today, Howleen and Clawd had sought to call all the hotels, motels, and bed and breakfasts in the county to see if there was anyone matching Clawdeen’s descriptions. When that didn’t check out, they had both tried to call every one in the_ state _._

_Except for the few that recognized them for previous check-ins for school trips or vacations, however, all of them said that nobody resembling Clawdeen who couldn’t be properly identified had been seen on their premises since she had gone missing._

_They still had quite a number of hotels to go through, but both Clawd and Howleen were starting to feel the exhaustion over take them. It was severely emotionally draining for both of them to constantly call and call, only to get no answers. They could feel the little hope they had steadily being ripped away piece by piece._

_It didn’t make sense. Pack members and police dogs couldn’t track her scent. Gem hadn’t made a reappearance since then, and so far, there was no sign of the mysterious truck she was always picked up in. It was like Clawdeen had just...disintegrated into thin air. Like she never existed._

_Howleen felt tears flood her eyes at the thought. Except this time, she thought, her sister wasn’t trapped in a magic lamp by a shadow genie. She was gone somewhere, and by now, she could’ve been hurt or dead or Skoll knew what else. And Howleen wouldn’t even get the chance to tell her goodbye or that she loved her or something to let her sister now that, no matter what happened, Clawdeen was her sister and she wouldn’t trade her for the world._

_Her ears lowered further as that got her to thinking about Clawdeen and all the times they had argued. All the stupid, petty bullshit she had ever done or said to Clawdeen, because she didn’t like what Clawdeen had said or done or because Howleen was merely jealous; the time they were kids and she ripped up Clawdeen’s drawing because she was mad at her, when Howleen stole her new necklace and ended up breaking it into pieces when it caught on a door handle from her moving too fast, the time that she accidentally spilled root beer all over Clawdeen’s history report that was due that day that Clawdeen had worked on for three months even when Clawdeen warned her to be careful and Clawdeen was so mad she was red in the face and screamed so loud that Howleen had actually been worried she was going to hit her, only for Clawdeen to burst into an uncharacteristic fit of tears in frustration._

_Hell, wasn’t it only the beginning of this year that Howleen wished that Clawdeen would just disappear, simply because Clawdeen noticed the effects that the magic lamp was having on her and was worried about her? She said Howleen wasn’t mature enough to handle it, and lo behold, she was right. But Howleen was too prideful and too fucking immature to reason with her._

_She couldn’t remember a single good thing she had ever done for Clawdeen. And now Clawdeen was gone and there was a chance that Howleen would never see her again. Howleen felt her eyes flood with tears._

_Before she could help herself, she curled up on the couch and buried her face in her knees as she began to cry. Clawd looked over at her, surprised._

“ _Leena?” he said._

“ _I’m a horrible sister,” the younger she-wolf confessed as she wept, “I-I was always just taking and taking, a-and all she ever wanted was for me to respect her things, a-a-and I could never be bothered to just ask, and now...now she’s wherever and I couldn’t even give her a hug o-or say loved her or-”_

_Clawd reached over and hugged her, pulling her against his chest. His eyes were filled with an unusual softness that normally they all saw only reserved for Draculaura._

“ _Hey, hey, don’t think like that,” he told her gently, cradling her and gently smoothing her hair as Howleen sobbed into his shirt, “You’re not a bad sister. You’re not. Shhh, it’s okay, I’m here for you.”_

_In his mind, Clawd was feeling the same way. He felt like such an awful, pitiful, piece of shit excuse for a brother. Now that his brothers and Clawdia had moved out, he was the oldest. It was his job to protect his siblings from things like this. How could he have been so blind to not see the red flags, or not look into them further? Why did he not go with Clawdeen to make sure that Gem was legit, or looked further into her bullshit fashion-dad story and find the inconsistencies?_

_He felt like such a failure, both as a brother and a pack member. He was supposed to become an alpha like his dad one day, he should’ve known better than to be so blind._

_He didn’t say this, though, knowing that it wouldn’t help Howleen in the slightest. Instead, the two of them held onto each other as they sat on the couch, taking comfort in each other’s presence as they mourned and prayed that Clawdeen would return to them._

_Howleen suddenly pulled away as she caught a flash of red and blue somewhere from outside. She leaned backward to glance out the window through the curtains. There was a police cruiser coming up to the driveway._

“ _C-Clawd,” she whimpered, gripping his sleeve for his attention. Clawd looked over his shoulder to look in the direction she was. His face went pale in the alternating cerulean and ruby glows._

_There was a thunder of footsteps. They both turned as the triplets and Nino appeared in the doorway. All of them looked just as scared as they saw it._

“ _Do you think-” Rocks began._

“ _I don’t know,” Clawd cut him off, a bit more harshly than intended. The appearance of the cop car alone was enough to put them all on edge._

_They turned to see their parents coming down the stairs, both of them holding hands as they stared out the window. Clawrk turned to look at Harriet; she swallowed with visible effort and nodded, her opposite hand coming up to grasp his desperately._

_They all held their breath as Clawrk, looking like a man about to go to the gallows, opened up the front door. Standing on the their porch were the two police officers who’d come to their house the night they first realized something had happened, the ones who’d filed the missing persons report for Clawdeen._

“ _Gentlemen,” Clawrk greeted, opening the screen door, “How may I help you?”_

_The tengu police officer tilted his head at the patriarch wolf and explained, “We need you to come down to the station. We got some news that may give us a lead in finding your daughter’s whereabouts.”_

* * *

“ _About two weeks ago, we got a call over in Eugene. Some parents were starting to notice this unmarked car lurking near the football field of the local high school there, whenever their kids were out for practice,” the police officer explained as he led the Wolfs through the police station, “When the cops there went out to investigate, though, it wouldn’t show up._

“ _Only a few days later, though, a gas station owner reported what looked to be a kidnapping on one of his security footage involving a truck of the same description,” he added, “A girl was seen talking to the driver and could then be seen struggling as him and his passenger forced her into the car._

_Clawrk and Harriet both nodded, urging him to continue. They walked side by side with the officer, while the rest of the kids trailed after them, hurrying along as they tried to keep up._

“ _Three days ago, police intercepted the truck off I-5, only a mile or so from the exit into California,” he explained._

_He brought them to a back room, where a few detectives and other officers raised their heads in curiosity at the large family as they worked in cubicles. The officer brought them over to one desk, where a kitsune was working. She looked up and handed him a manila folder._

“ _The girl was in the truck with them, visibly injured and disoriented and handcuffed,” he explained, “Turns out it was a student from that same school that the parents had seen the truck scoping out.”_

“ _Fucking Christ,” Clawrk muttered in horror._

_The officer nodded, like it disgusted him to think of. “I can’t give you the details of her case due to confidentiality, but she’s back with her family, if it helps you. We arrested the driver and the passenger and charged them with kidnapping. As we ran their names through our records, however, that was when we noticed that description of the second occupant sounded a lot familiar...”_

_He took out two photos from the file and set down on the table. The Wolfs gathered around as they all tried to look at the people printed on them. Clawd and Howleen saw them and their fists clenched in recognition at one of them._

_They were both mugshot photos. One displayed Gem exactly as they had remembered her- short pink bob, eyes like Scarah’s except dark blue for the whites, small wings lying slumped behind her as she looked at the camera with a tired, miserable expression. The other showed an unfamiliar owl cryptid of sorts who looked to be in his mid thirties or forties, whose hard red eyes looked dangerous and whose beak looked menacing with the way it was lined with teeth._

“ _Gem...” Howleen spat hatefully, “That’s her, all right.”_

“ _Well, it’s not,” the officer said._

_They all looked up at him, puzzled at what he said. The officer reached over and Gem’s picture._

“ _Her real name is Faeth Dustins,” he explained, “She was reported a runaway at seventeen from South Dakota about eight years ago. Her records show she’s been busted a few times for prostitution and drug charges.”_

_He turned to the owl, “The man you see on the left is the driver, Kiyaon Mawcorn. He’s a registered sex offender who was originally under house arrest in his brother’s home. About three years ago, we put him on the most wanted list after we found out he removed his device and skipped down.”_

“ _So in other words,” Clawrk growled, “He’s a sick fuck who’s been roaming free doing god knows what.”_

_Howleen didn’t think she ever heard her dad sound so cold. It sent a chill up her own spine. The officer, however, just nodded, understanding the werewolf’s anger._

“ _We searched his house,” he said, “As it turns out, he’s been using the house of an old buddy of his who lives in the neighborhood. Upon it, we found this...”_

_He took something that was contained in a few plastic bags and slid it towards them. Everyone’s eyes widened._

“ _Oh god...” Harriet whimpered, her hands flying to her mouth in shock._

_Contained in one bag was Clawdeen’s student ID. The other one had a lime green top that was patterned with jaguar stripes. The same one Clawdeen had been wearing the day she went to meet Gem; it was a top she had made herself._

_They all stared at the items like they’d been frozen by them. Howleen felt her stomach churn with revulsion- they had Clawdeen’s shirt, they had her sister’s_ shirt.  _Clawrk stonily turned back to the police officer._

“ _Where are they now?” he asked in a cold voice lacking in any sort of emotion._

_The officer sighed, “Right now, they’re both being held without bail. They’re both right away going to be charged with everything involved in the missing girl we found in their truck- kidnapping, assault, false imprisonment, everything along those lines. With what we found about Clawdeen, it’s clear that this isn’t their first time doing this, either.”_

_He frowned in thought and crossed his arms. “The problem is, neither of them are opening their mouths. He upfront refuses- says it’ll put a straight target on his back and he’ll be dead in the next daylight- she...she obviously has her own issues. She isn’t talking, either. Just keeps saying that she’s ‘sorry for everything.’ Not even the suggestion of a plea deal is getting them to talk.”_

“ _So...so what does this mean for Clawdeen?” Harriet questioned, “If they’re not going to say anything about what they did wit her, how...how is that going to help with finding her?”_

_The police officer took the pictures and bags bagged and put them back in the folder. He dropped it onto the table and leaned against it._

“ _It means, we officially have an investigation going somewhere,” he told them, “The girl they were caught with says that they were talking of ‘selling’ her the highest bidder- that tells us that they’re involved in a trafficking operation. Which means, if my guess is correct...that’s where they put Clawdeen.”_

_He held his arms out right as Clawrk and Harriet turned away from him, their faces falling in devastation. “Look, I know it doesn’t sound helpful now, but that means we’re not as far off as we thought we are,” he said, “Both of them are going down hard, and there’s no way they aren’t. We’re going to be looking through Mawcorn’s search history and his e-mails- he’s not supposed to have any social media, or even a computer that’s NOT work-related, so that’s just another violation of his parole- and see what we can find._

“ _I assure you, we’re one step closer to finding her,” he said, “At the very least, we now have two sick perverts who seek on hurting minors now off the streets for good.”_

_This didn’t seem to draw much enthusiasm from the Wolf family. They all nodded blankly, unable to draw much hope from the revelation._

_Howleen wasn’t paying much attention, though. As she gazed out into space, her gaze dropped down to the manila folder resting by the officer’s hand. She thought of the mugshot of Gem- no, Faeth- that he had given them._

_Her claws dug into the palms of her hands as the image of the fairy flashed in front of her eyes._

_Gem, Faeth, whatever her name was, she didn’t care._

_All Howleen knew or cared about was if she ever saw the fairy on the street again, she wouldn’t hesitate to rip her throat out between her teeth for ever laying her eyes on Clawdeen._

* * *

Clawdeen listened as Rocks finished up his recollection, stunned. She sat up straight, looking at him, before she turned to Howleen. The younger tan wolf looked back at her, showing no sign of deception.

“She’s...she’s in jail?” she repeated, still dumbfounded at the words.

The last time Clawdeen had ever seen the fairy, Gem was waiting in the truck as Striggy dragged her over to the men who would move her and several other girls across the country to be picked up for whatever people had “bought” them.

This, after several weeks of her sleeping in the same house and having no qualms while Clawdeen was drugged and raped by the very first batch of men who’d paid for her in the next room over. She had even helped Striggy commit either act on several occasions. The memory of it made Clawdeen press her thighs together until her hips ached.

Clawdeen had thought her a friend. Gem had told her she could help her get her name out into the fashion world, that she had connections to some very famous designers.

As it turned her “connections” was just helping to be Striggy’s accomplice in picking out the next lucky catch for him to make money off after he had his personal fun.

Clawdeen didn’t think she had ever hated a person more.

Now, though, the revelation from Rocks was like a punch to the stomach. It sounded too good to be true.

“Are you okay?” Rocks asked, leaning forward as he took notice of the pallor her face had taken on once again.

Slowly, Clawdeen sat back up. She turned her head towards him, her eyes an intense hue of yellow in the barely-there light of dawn.

“...What happened to her?” she asked, “To Gem? Afterward? Do you know?”

Howleen made a face like the mere mention of the fairy put a bad taste in her mouth. She scrunched up her nose and glared at a random pine ahead of them like she wanted to punch it.

“She got sentenced, that was for sure,” she hissed, “And good riddance. If that bitch knew what was good for her, she would hope that they kept her locked away.”

Clawdeen looked at her out of her peripheral, surprised at the fury in her little sister’s voice. Howleen’s eyes were hard with anger and she had clenched her fists from where they were resting on her knees.

Rocks elaborated, “Well, right away, Mom and Dad got a restraining her against her. They even went to the court hearing for her.”

He tugged at some grass that was growing out between the cracks of the road and tossed it. “She’s serving six years, at the moment. Apparently, they think she might’ve been a trafficking survivor too- Neighthan says that it sounds like she’s got Stockholm syndrome or something for why she wouldn’t rat on the guy- so they tried to be a bit lenient with her, see if she changes or some bullshit like that with therapy.”

He shrugged, “The Mawcorn’s guy serving life. I guess he was known as the neighborhood pervert or something; served time before for molesting his neighbor’s daughter. The fact that he fled the state pretty much erased any chance he had for appeals. Gem- or Faeth, whatever- she’s...she’s just fucked up, is their defense. Probably had a rough life, doesn’t know any better.”

Howleen scoffed, “There are plenty of people who have rough lives, and they don’t all go around kidnapping and raping girls. It’s such bullshit.”

Clawdeen didn’t respond to either of their comments. Her thoughts stayed on Gem and the little mention that was made of her life before she met Clawdeen.

Before, when she had first woken up to find herself in the little hell that was the bedroom of Striggy’s supposed house, she had despised the pink-headed fairy with every fiber of her being. The sting of betrayal had gone deep into her bones, and there had been plenty of times where, in the few times that she had washed Clawdeen (her touch revolted her) or fed her, Clawdeen had half a mind to lunge up and tear a chunk from her cheek. She never understood how someone could easily give up a person who had trusted them. Had Clawdeen’s kindness and her friendship meant nothing to her? Was that all that Gem ever saw her as, a pawn for her own little game?

Yet, as time went on, especially in the company of Aran, Clawdeen felt her hatred lessen and somewhat of an understanding came to her. Rocks had mentioned how they thought Gem was trafficked like her- that made sense. Clawdeen remembered a point when, when she first realized that Gem had set her up, Striggy had made a mention of “buying” Gem from Philly. And, like Clawdeen had with Aran, Gem always referred to him as “Master”. As if he owned her like she was a prize horse.

And hadn’t Clawdeen committed her own share of horrible, unspeakable acts before? How many times had she lie quietly and try to fall asleep to the sounds of one of her DC friends being raped or beaten by their pimp without so much as a thought of trying to help them? Hadn’t she turned in Annabelle over to Aran when the unicorn had an actual chance of escaping because Clawdeen was too scared of the fallout that would occur if the boys couldn’t find her?

She didn’t know what to feel about the fairy anymore.

There was still a fair amount of hate there- in a fucked up sense of morality, Clawdeen could feel herself argue _Well,_ _ **I**_ _never fake-befriended a teenager and helped my pimp transport her_ \- but also maybe...a bit of sadness? Some sort of pity or sympathy? She didn’t know.

No matter what, though, Clawdeen never wanted to see her again.

Sensing the auburn haired wolf’s distress, Rocks and Howleen shared another look. Rocks looked back at Clawdeen and lightly touched her arm.

“Do you want to go home?” he asked.

Numbly, Clawdeen nodded.

“Okay,” Rocks answered gently, “We’ll go home.”

They all stood up and brushed off their pants. Clawdeen straightened up just in time to feel her brother encircle his arms around her. Rocks had grown a few more inches in the last five years, and he now had a good two more inches over her; any baby fat he had had since given way to lean, hard muscle.

“It’ll be okay,” he said.

Clawdeen didn’t respond. She just let him and Howleen lead her by the shoulder as they headed back to the house, their previous goal of going for a jog now forgotten in the early morning light.

* * *

The next time Clawdeen met with Jennifur, she told her about what Rocks had said and how the trial was starting.

“I see,” Jennifur commented, “That must’ve been quite the surprise for you, hearing about this girl again. I can imagine it probably didn’t help much in terms of the stress you’re already under with this court date now officially in commencement.”

Clawdeen shrugged and leaned back in her seat, her arms crossed. “I don’t know what to think of it at all,” she said, “For Gem, I mean. I’m scared shitless about the trial, as I just told you, but with her...”

She struggled to find the words. “I mean, I feel like I should be allowed to be angry. I _am_ angry. But ever since I was brought _there_ , to DC, and everything that’s happened after that...part of me feels like I shouldn’t be. Like, I should know better and feel for her because she went through the same thing, probably, but part of me, kinda, doesn’t want to?

“But then, that also makes me feel bad because _another_ part of me says that I should know better,” she added, “It’s...I don’t know. I guess I’m confused by it all.”

“You can feel sympathetic to her situation and still hold her accountable for her actions,” Jennifur explained, “Her possible past explains her actions, but it doesn’t _excuse_ them. This was still someone you trusted and opened yourself up to who took advantage of that trust and hurt you.”

Clawdeen nodded. It made sense. Even now, whenever she thought of all the supposed good times she thought she had with Gem, juxtaposed with the blank, emotionless look in the fairy’s eyes when it was revealed she was working with Striggy and was responsible for Clawdeen’s predicament, the wound still stung like it was ripped open again.

“So...” she spoke up, “What do I do? Should I just forgive and forget, o-or hold a grudge, or what?”

Jennifur shook her head, “You can forgive, but _never_ forget. Forgetting what has someone has done to hurt you only allows them to hurt you again. As for forgiving? Well, that has to your choice. If it means anything, remember there’s a no-contact order between you two and she _is_ serving time, so you won’t be forced to endure her presence.

“No matter what choice you make, it should be for _your_ personal healing. You don’t owe anyone your forgiveness just because you understand them,” she concluded.

Personal healing. What a joke. As if this whole thing was a cut and forgiveness was a tiny little bandage that would magically take all the pain away. This wasn’t a cut- it wasn’t even a gash, Clawdeen thought. It was a big, gaping, festering wound where you couldn’t even recognize what part of which, where the best option was just to cut the whole thing off.

Yeah, that was the best solution. Cut it all off. Let her find some way to forget that these last five years had ever happened. Forget Aran. Forget Gem. Forget Striggy. Forget everything from the house to DC and everything that happened in between on that journey.

Forget everything and give her her life back.

The only ‘personal healing’ Clawdeen felt like could truly work could be if someone could make a time machine and erase the chance of her and Gem ever meeting.

But of course, that couldn’t happen. The time machine at Monster High, last time she heard, had since been dismantled.

“What are you thinking?” Jennifur asked, noting the faraway look in the werewolf’s eyes.

Clawdeen shrugged again.

“I just wish this whole was already over,” she muttered, “I just wish all of them would get out of my head and stop bothering me. Let me live my unlife without this worry that Aran or any of them are going to come after me. Let me _live_ again already.”

Jennifur nodded. She didn’t say anything, though. Clawdeen was grateful for that. They sat there in silence for a minute, letting it all sink in.

It was wishful thinking, she knew.

It didn’t stop her from doing it anyway.


	9. Chapter 8: Nowhere is Safe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Chapter contains depictions of rape and severe physical abuse in the flashback scenes and descriptions of a panic attack. Please proceed with caution.

It was a little bit late in the evening; it had since gone dark outside. The clock on the wall as well as those on the microwave and the stove said it was half past nine o’clock.

Clawdeen, Harriet, Clawd, Howleen, and Draculaura all sat around at the dining room table, all of them facing the kitchen and silent as they all watched Clawrk pace back and forth slowly, their eyes slowly trailing the patriarch Wolf as he held his phone to his ear, listening to what was being explained to him. Him and Harriet had since ordered the younger kids to bed and the boys disappeared to their rooms, but Clawdeen thought she could hear Nino and Howie in the entry area. Probably, they were trying to listen in without getting caught.

Stopping in his pace, Clawrk’s eyes flickered downward. “And what else did they say?” he asked, “...Uh-huh...did they elaborate on what exactly they meant by that?”

On the other line, they could hear Archie answering; his voice sounded like the buzzing of a fly. Clawrk wrinkled his nose at whatever statement the dinosaur was giving. Clawdeen pressed up against the back of her seat slightly as she saw his right hand ball into a fist.

“How did you respond to that?” Clawrk questioned, his voice now much tighter, “...Is that good?...Okay, yeah...yeah, that’s good.”

His tone relaxed, “And that’s it?...Okay….No, thank you. Please, let us know what else comes up...You, too. Bye.”

He finally pulled his phone away and hit End. They heard him let out a small growl as he looked at his screen. At the table, they all awaited his response.

“...So?” Harriet finally broke the silence, “What did he say?”

Clawrk sighed and slid his phone into his pocket. He turned to face them. As his eyes landed on Clawdeen, she could see them regard her with a bit of pity.

“Well, the defense is definitely pulling out every trick in the book,” Clawrk shook his head in disbelief, “Archie says that they know their shit out of luck and that they’re definitely going to get the boot, so they’re trying to lessen the charges by focusing on the ‘impact’ the sentences will have on the people around them. Says that they brought up how several of them have ‘families’ and they’re the primary breadwinners and how they wished the jury would think of how these long sentences would affect their children’s unlives and whatnot.” 

Clawdeen couldn’t help but wince at that. She thought of the conversation she’d had a long time ago with Shelby and the others, one where Shelby and Starla had revealed that Grady and Bryce were family men. It made her stomach twist in knots to think of them and Aran as family men- to imagine that somewhere, they’d work Clawdeen and the group to the bone, shuffling them around, forcing them to let others use their bodies to their personal pleasures and striking out at them if they showed the smallest hint of resistance, and then at the end of the day, traveled to another place in the city where they were greeted by their wives or ghoulfriends and however many children they had like they were still earnest, hardworking men who completely made their money in an honest way. 

H ow did they reconcile those two parts of themselves with each other?  To be able to hold their wives and say “I love you” and kiss their children and put on this image of being loving and caring, meanwhile on the other side of the tracks, they were always calling women misogynistic slurs and having not even a moment’s hesitation to bring them pain? 

Clawrk scoffed bitterly, “What fucking bullshit. Where was the consideration for  _our_ family when that bastard helped them take Clawdeen?” 

“You got to be kidding me,” Howleen said, flabbergasted, “They don’t seriously think that will _work,_ do they?” 

“Sadly, a few times, it has,” Draculaura commented, “People still tend to have this idea that the only rapists out there are creepy, anti-social men in trench coats who squat in houses who stalk women in the night and grab them to bring them into alleyways. Nobody ever wants to imagine the star quarterback or the future valedictorian is capable of bringing harm; as a result, many become more concerned with protecting the assaulter’s reputation and the ‘loss of potential’ a sentence may bring than actually bringing justice for the victim.” 

Clawrk nodded in agreement as he crossed his arms, “Archie says that they’re trying to go for the narrative that, while of course it was wrong for these guys to keep the girls isolated from the rest of the world and having them perform certain ‘activities’ when they were underage, they also failed to hear any complaints from them regarding their situation.” 

Everyone’s mouths dropped open at that. Clawdeen’s head shot up. She stared at him with disbelief, before she looked down at her hands. 

“That...t-that’s not fair!” she exclaimed, “H-He’d get made at me if I ever said anything h-he didn’t like, l-like that!” 

She looked back and forth between them all desperately, “H-He told me that there were men w-watching us, t-t-that if we tried to leave they’d find us. H-He...he punished me if I ever so much as seemed to think about it...” 

She was unable to go on, the memory of the first and only night she ever tried to escape too painful for her to find the words.  Her whole body went stiff as she remembered the agonizing hours that were spent with Aran finding every way he could to her hurt her and put her through the upmost agony. Unconsciously, she squeezed her thighs together, remembering the persistent burn between her legs as he roughly forced himself on her and then violated her with various objects.

“Oh, sweetheart, we believe you,” Harriet said, reaching out to grasp her hand. 

Clawd made a noise of disgust and looked at his father. “Seriously? Like, what are they trying to say? That the girls seemed to  _like_ what they do?” 

Clawrk frowned, “Archie says the defense’s argument is that pretty much, while it was certainly illegal and ‘inappropriate’- yeah, they’re really trying to dumb it down to that- to put the girls in such a position, at the same time, as he says were in their words-” 

He held up his hands and did finger quotes, “‘The witnesses were also provided room and board and were often rewarded with expensive and high-quality gifts, to which they never had any objections to accepting, nor did they seem to bring up any concerns regarding the state of the former.” 

Clawdeen’s mouth dropped open.  It was ludicrous, to hear such things. 

Admittedly, she liked the things that Aran had got for her; the lingering fashion maven in her loved the designer clothes, the new shoes, the top quality jewelry. They were better than the worn, stained clothes she was left to wear in the beginning that would’ve been worn by who knows who and often smelled, since she didn’t have any detergent to use for the washer the first few weeks. 

But Aran also seemed to  _expect_ that she liked them. If she didn’t express some sort of gratitude or favoritism over the material items, he’d get mad. He yelled at her a few times for that, saying that she was ungrateful and she didn’t know how good she had it compared to other ghouls. One time, when she didn’t say how much she loved a necklace fast enough, Aran ripped it right from her neck and called her an ungrateful whore. 

Her hand traveled up to her neck. She rubbed it, remembering the  sting as the chain caught on to her skin and pulled at it painfully as Aran snapped the chain. 

“That’s horseshit!” Clawd said angrily, “They really think that, what, that somehow lessens the fact they fucking beat and raped a bunch of teenage girls!” 

Clawrk waved at him, urging him to calm down. “I know, I think it’s disgusting. How anyone could defend scum like that and sleep at night, I’ll never understand.” 

“Does it matter?” Clawdeen muttered before she could stop herself. 

They all glanced in her direction. She took her hand from Harriet’s to rest her elbows on the table and rested her chin against her hands. She looked at the surface of the table with her brows knit in despair. 

“If that’s all they’re able to use, they’re going to use it and twist it to show it anyway they can that they were innocent,” she said, “I know Aran has a lot of money. He can hire one of those big, almost-celebrity lawyers that knows just what to say or find the evidence they need to make him seem like he’s not that bad. 

“And then,” she continued, “They’ll use that to make it seem like it’s my fault. T-That I should’ve known he was fooling me, o-or that I did or said something to make him ‘believe’ I wanted him to...to touch me.” 

She lapsed into silence. All of them stared at her  with worried expressions. None of them spoke up for a second, as they were a bit surprised by her rambling. 

“Clawdeen,” Clawd finally said, “He _won’t_ get away with this.” 

Clawdeen looked up at him. The amount of sadness and defeat that shown in her eyes was like a punch in the gut for him. 

“Won’t he, though?” Clawdeen countered, “He got away with it for all these years, and longer with however many other girls came before me. Who’s to say he doesn’t already know the law and won’t find some loophole or-or _something_ that will make him be able to slip through the cracks. He’s not stupid, he knows how to play his cards right.” 

She crossed her arms and leaned forward to rest her head on them. She looked out to the kitchen absentmindedly. 

“There’s no telling what he has in mind,” she muttered thickly, “What any of them have in mind. You guys don’t know what they’re capable of, you haven’t seen...you don’t know...” 

She swallowed. Her lip quivered and she closed her eyes, a single tear escaping and running down her left cheek. Everyone glanced at each other, their hearts heavy; it was hard seeing Clawdeen like this, to see her so worn down. 

Clawrk and Harriet shared a look, before Harriet turned back to her daughter and put a hand on her back. 

“Come on, my love,” she told Clawdeen softly, “You need your rest.”

* * *

The next morning, Clawdeen lay in bed, staring at the wall in a daze. The conversation from the night before replayed in her head all night long and kept her up for almost the whole night. 

Now, after a few fitful hours of sleep, she awoke with it still weighing on her mind heavily. She lay on her side, curled up in the blankets, having not moved from this position for at least fifteen minutes. This morning, she had no energy or will to get up. 

Why couldn’t this be over? 

Clawdeen sighed. At her side, Crescent lay pressed up against her on her belly. She  had her head lowered between her paws as she watched her owner. There was a blank, glassy look in Clawdeen’s eyes; Crescent was confused as to why the werewolf hadn’t seemed to move, even though she was awake. 

Downstairs, the front door opened. Clawdeen’s ears perked up at the sound of hearing a multitude of female voices, before she heard someone coming up the stairs. 

The door flung open. Draculaura strolled into the room, dressed in a pink and black peacoat, black gloves, and white boots. 

“Get up,” she said, “We’re going shopping.” 

Clawdeen blinked, snapping out of the small trance she had found herself in. She furrowed her brows and turned away from the wall to look over her shoulder at the vampire. 

“What?” she asked. 

Laura nodded at her, “Me and the ghouls. We’re going out to the maul, and you’re coming with us.  We’re taking you shopping.” 

“Leave me alone, Lala,” Clawdeen murmured, turning away from her and pulling the blankets back up. 

“Come on, Clawdeen!” Laura insisted. She walked over to the lower bunk and sat on its edge, reaching out to touch Clawdeen’s side, “You used to love when we went shopping. Besides, when’s the last time you actually left the house that wasn’t for an appointment? Come on, let us take you out. Get your mind off things for now.” 

“I don’t wanna go,” was all she got as a response as Clawdeen buried herself deeper into the blankets. 

Draculaura frowned.  She looked over to see Crescent staring at her from over Clawdeen’s hip, the purple cat looking equally at a loss for what to do. Suddenly, an eye idea came to her. A smile spread out over Laura’s baby pink painted lips. She leaned over so she was close to Clawdeen’s ear. 

“I’ll have Abbey come up here and spoon with you,” she said lowly. 

Clawdeen’s eyes widened in horror. She shot up in bed and turned to face her best friend; Draculaura leaned back, smiling with amusement. 

“You wouldn’t _dare_ ,” Clawdeen challenged. 

Laura just shrugged and stood up, “Well, if you don’t want to find out, get up.  Come on, you obviously need a distraction from all this stress, and I’m not going to let you start slipping into these bad habits like staying in bed all day. So get showered, get dressed, put on some makeup if you’re feeling it, and let’s get going. Clawd and the boys are going with us.” 

Clawdeen made a face at her. “And if I still say no?” 

“Then we’ll leave without you,” Laura said, never breaking eye contact, “But do you _really_ want to just lay in bed all day, unable to think about anything else than Aran and the trial?” 

“I...I guess not,” Clawdeen said. 

Laura nodded, like it was confirming what she already thought. “Then come on. Please, Clawdeen, let us help you. Get some fresh air, some food, maybe some new clothes.” 

Clawdeen kept eyeing her for a second, though, still looking a little doubtful.  Finally, though, she sighed and threw back the covers, swinging her feet around to stand. 

“Fine,” Clawdeen said, “But just...just don’t get mad if I’m not exactly over the moon to do things, okay?” 

“Okay,” Draculaura agreed, “It’s whatever you want to do. This day’s for you.” 

Clawdeen gave her another look, before she got up and went to pick out something to wear. 

* * *

About half an hour later, Clawdeen came down the stairs with Draculaura. Everyone was awaiting in the sitting room,  talking as they waited. Clawd was the first one to look up at the two as they approached; he smiled as he saw Clawdeen. 

“There they are,” he said, “You look amazing, ‘Deen.” 

Clawdeen blushed and gave a small smile. “T-Thank you.” 

She had dressed for the cold weather outside, going with an old, gold-colored crushed velvet dress that she forgot she had had and pairing it with her old black leather jacket and a pair of boots. She had put on some light makeup and had put her hair in a half-up-half-down style with space buns. She even had picked out a few accessories, such as her old choker and some bangles. 

Clawd nodded and turned back to  the group. “Is everyone ready to go?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” they all said, standing up to gather their things. 

“Okay then,” he said,” looking back at Clawdeen and Laura, “Let’s go then.”

* * *

“Was that Shrunkin’ Head Donuts always there?” Clawdeen asked as she looked out the window. 

Her, Clawd, Howleen, and Laura were gathered up in Clawd’s car as the latter entered the parking lot to New Salem Maul. It was obvious the holiday season was upon them, as the lot was completely packed and several store windows had Christmas items displayed in them. 

Howleen leaned over to look at where her sister was pointing. She nodded, “Yeah, it was just put there last year. I wouldn’t waste your money on it, though. The coffee’s  _awful._ And the donuts taste like cardboard.” 

Clawdeen turned her head and smiled at the disgusted expression that came upon her sister’s face.  She replied, “Duly noted.” 

As they pulled into a spot and Clawd set the break, the cars carrying all their other friends pulled in beside them. Everyone got out and shut their doors. Clawdeen shivered as she stepped out; it was freezing cold out. Her nose immediately felt like its tip was numb. She buried herself deeper into the long purple coat that her mom had lent to her.

“Geez, I forgot how fucking cold it gets around here,” she muttered as she gathered up her purse. 

“It’s also gotten worse in the later years,” Draculaura commented, equally freezing as she rubbed her mittened hands together, “It’ll barely be midway through October and already the temperature drops to forty.” 

“That’s what happens when you constantly allow the planet to warm,” Lagoona said as her and Gil walked up to them, “But do these dill politicians listen? No.” 

They all stood around, shuffling on their feet trying to stay warm in the sudden blistering wind that blew at them almost like it was trying to actively mock them as they waited for their friends. As everyone finally got together, they all hurried to the side entrance of the maul. 

Clawdeen looked around in wonder as they entered. She forgot how big t he Maul was; all three stories were bustling with shoppers, maulwalkers, and window gazers. People consistently went in and out of stories, often with their arms full of shopping bags, while nearly every table was filled in the food court and small lines formed at nearly every restaurant stand. With Christmas coming up,  giant glittery snowflakes and beach ball sized ornaments hung from the ceiling and a giant Christmas tree stretched up between the circle that all three levels formed around. Ahead, Clawdeen could see a giant arch formed by red, gold, and green balloons that had a sign below that promised pictures with Santa Claws were coming. 

Draculaura smirked as she saw the starstruck expression on the werewolf’s face, like she was a little pup again seeing a magic trick. 

“Makes you feel at home, doesn’t it?” she asked. 

“If only,” Clawdeen said. She turned her attention to the group. “So, um...where does everyone want to go?” 

They all looked at her. Howleen asked, “Well, where do  _you_ want to go?” 

“Oh, um...” Clawdeen looked out at the hall before them. She could see a Haunt Topic, Wet Selkie, and Bat and Body Works up ahead, “I don’t know...um, is everyone okay with that?” 

She pointed to the nearest store to the left of them, which was a  Yankill Candle outlet. 

“It’s wherever you want to go, Clawdeen,” Cleo said, “This day is for _you.”_

“Okay then,” Clawdeen said, taking another look around, “Then...I want to go check out Howllister.” 

So that’s where they went. They roamed around the clothing stands and picked out pieces that caught their eye, some of them heading to the changing rooms to try them on. Clawdeen  wandered along one of the tables, lightly feeling the soft fabric of the clothes laid out on them. She stopped as she came across a garment that was a nice, deep purple and printed with daylilies. She held it up; it was an open shoulder blouse. 

“That looks nice,” Clawd said, coming up to her, “You should try it on, see if it fits.” 

Clawdeen looked over her shoulder at him, before she glanced back at the top. She shook her head. 

“I don’t think so,” she said, beginning to fold the blouse back up, “I don’t have any money to buy it.” 

“I’ll buy it for you,” Clawd insisted. 

She looked at him, “Clawd, no. I couldn’t-” 

“Deen, come on, let me get it for you,” Clawd said, “You obviously want it, I can see it in your eyes. Let me treat you.” 

Clawdeen continued to give him a look of doubt. Clawd gestured to the changing rooms. “Come on, sis, let me do something nice for you.” 

“...Okay,” Clawdeen said, finally relenting and heading over to the changing rooms. On the way there, she passed by Cleo and Ghoulia, who were looking through some jeans. 

“Oooh, that top is to live for!” Cleo exclaimed as she looked at the garment in Clawdeen’s arm, “You should try on these jeans with it, I bet they’ll be perfect together!” 

She took a pair of dark boot-cut jeans from the  table and held them up for Clawdeen to see. Clawdeen tilted her head in thought and took them from her. She draped them over her arm with the blouse and looked at them in a pair, considering how they worked. 

“Uuuuugh,” Ghoulia groaned, holding up a pair of wedge sandals. 

“They do look like they would go together pretty well...” Clawdeen agreed. 

“You should totally try it out!” Frankie said, coming around the corner, “I bet it would look voltageously terrific on you.” 

One thing led to another, and before Clawdeen knew it, they were heading out of Howllister with all three items in a shopping bag that had been graciously paid for by Clawd. Clawdeen continued to try and argue that he didn’t need to do such a thing, but the older wolf only shook his head and handed the cashier his credit card. 

“It wouldn’t be the first time that I had to buy you new clothes,” he joked, “Besides, consider this a make-up gift for all the birthdays we had to miss you.” 

“Oh, that’s right,” Laura said slyly beside him, “We have five years we have to make up. So consider this our treat.” 

“You guys really don’t have to...” Clawdeen tried to say. 

“Nonsense,” Abbey said, “Is your day to relax. What you say go. Just as long as it not too dangerous or not of possible to do.” 

So, that’s what they did. They all went around the maul to various shops that interested Clawdeen, both old and new (at least to her), and every time, the werewolf found herself with her arms full of various little gifts. Clothes, jewelry, perfume,  it was like they were celebrating her birthday super late into the year. 

A t one point, Clawdeen felt almost overwhelmed by their generosity. It felt wrong, for them to buy her all this stuff simply because she couldn’t buy it herself. 

Then again, she thought, Maybe that was just because she was used to having stuff bought for her by Aran, who used it to reward and bribe her for giving into him. 

Clawdeen tried to push the thought out of her mind. 

“Hey, Clawdeen,” Heath called her over at one point when they were at the bookstore, “Check this out.” 

Clawdeen turned away from the shelf she was analyzing and turned to him. Heath grinned and held up a  calendar in his hands for her to see. It was titled  _Nahuelito Namaste_ and showed long necked sea monsters in various yoga poses. 

Clawdeen smirked, “You’re so dumb.” 

“Aw, don’t act like you have never been itching to get one of these,” Heath joked, twirling the calendar in his hands. 

Next to him, checking out some planners, Abbey rolled her eyes. Clawdeen  smirked and turned back to the books she was looking at. She’d been in the fiction category, aimlessly looking about the titles to see which ones caught her eye. 

She looked to the left and paused. Her eyes widened as she caught sight of a title that seemed familiar. 

“Wait a minute...” Clawdeen commented. Her arm shot out and grabbed the book from its shelf she turned it over. She read the summary under her breath, her surprise increasing. 

“When their home territory is threatened by human invaders, Echo and Flap must do the impossible and try to unite the wereanimal clans of their land in order to protect their families and themselves...” Clawdeen muttered. 

It was the book she’d been reading at the farmhouse. Obviously, this edition was newer,  and the cover was different, but still the same one otherwise. It shook Clawdeen slightly; what were the odds? 

“Oh, yeah, that’s a good series,” Romulus said, strolling up to her. 

Clawdeen turned to look at him, “It’s a series?” 

“Yeah,” Romulus nodded. He pointed at where she had grabbed it; Clawdeen could see there were three other books by the same author lined up on the shelf, “The final book kind of drags on for a while, but I’d say it’s worth the read.” 

“I...started reading one of them,” Clawdeen said, turning back to the one in her hands, “A while ago. But I never got to finish it.” 

“If you want, I could lend you some of mine. I have all of them,” Romulus said with a smile. 

“You’d really do that for me?” Clawdeen asked. 

The silver wolf gave her another nod. “Just be careful with them,” Romulus said, “I got one signed by the author, so it kind of means a lot to me.” 

Clawdeen smirked, “Don’t worry. I’ll be sure to sell it on Scream-bay for double the price.” 

“There’s the ghoul I know,” Romulus chuckled.

* * *

“Holy hellhounds, Clawdeen Wolf! Is that you?” 

Clawdeen  turned in her seat. Her lips were currently puckered around the straw of the cup of root bear she held in her hands. Numerous shopping bags of color and size rested at her and her friends’ feet. 

After browsing through her favorite stores for a few hours, she and everyone decided to take a break and get some lunch. Clawdeen currently sat with  the ghouls as they ate meals from the Thai food stand. Laura and the others had also taken some time to buy stuff for themselves, so their shopping bags were crowded around them. 

Standing behind Clawdeen was a hippocampus woman probably a few years older than her.  Her skin was an iridescent silvery blue and her long bright blue hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She stared at Clawdeen like she had just materialized out of thin air. 

Clawdeen’s eyes widened in recognition. She smiled and turned in her seat. 

“Oh, hi, Equina,” she said, “It’s...nice seeing you again.” 

“Oh, you too, so much!” Equina exclaimed as she came over. She grabbed Clawdeen’s hand as the werewolf held it out to her and grasped it between both her webbed ones, “It’s been way too long! Ever since we got the news, I’ve been so worried! The ghouls and me, we all cried when you never showed up again, we thought the worst had happened!” 

Clawdeen shifted in her seat in discomfort; she didn’t want to talk about her kidnapping right out her in public, where others were bound to be trying to listen in. Equina didn’t seem to notice, however, and continued to ramble on. 

“I’m so glad to see you,” she continued, “How long have you been back?” 

“Um, a few months actually,” Clawdeen said, “I’ve just been kind of getting back on feet, you know...” 

Equina smiled, “That’s good. Well, if you’re ever interested in working any time soon, we still have a sales associate position open, and you still have to pick up your final check.” 

That made Clawdeen smile, “Thanks, Equina. I’ll think about it.” 

“Glad to hear,” Equina said. She glanced at her watch. “I’m on my lunch break now, and I have to go meet my husband for something, but hopefully we’ll see you around Gloomingdale’s some time?” 

“Maybe,” Clawdeen answered. 

That made Equina beam, “Great! And of course, feel free to stop by anytime to talk. The ghouls and I loved having you.” 

She left soon afterward, with the group watching her weave through the crowd. Frankie swallowed some mango chicken and turned to Clawdeen. “Who was that?” 

“My old manager,” Clawdeen said, watching as Equina disappeared around the corner. 

S he felt a small pang of sadness. She  _loved_ working at the big department store when it was relatively new to the maul. With it being a new facility, dozens of people scrambled to try and get hired; Clawdeen remembered she stayed up all night polishing up her resume and searched for every potential reference she could find.  It wasn’t very impressive, with her store clerk position still being a minimum wage job that made her deal with annoying customers, but she and her mom had screamed and jumped for joy when she got the called back. 

She really should stop by there some time, see if the ghouls working there were still around…

“Ooh, ooh!” her attention was diverted as Draculaura suddenly shot up in her seat and clapped, “Look over there, at JC Penny’s! Everything for seventy-five percent off! Come on, let’s go!” 

“You can go, I’m still eating,” Cleo said through a mouthful of coconut shrimp. 

Clawdeen raised a brow as she looked down at the rather gargantuan portions of food the mummy had ordered. “Gee, Cleo, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with this much.” 

“Hey, I’m eating for two now, get off my bandages,” Cleo said, a small blush coming onto her cheeks. 

“Ghuaaaa,” Ghoulia said in agreement, gesturing to her own plate of food.

Laura pouted. She turned to Clawdeen and Frankie. “How about you two?” 

Clawdeen shrugged and tossed her spork onto her tray. “Why not? I’ve been wanting to get some nail polish.” 

“Clawd!” Laura called to the other table, where the guys were sitting and chatting. The tall wolf turned to her, “We’re going to head in to look at the sales!” 

He nodded and raised his hand. “I’ll meet you in there in a few minutes,” he said. 

Frankie, Clawdeen, and Draculaura carried their trays over to the trash can and dumped their garbage, before they gathered up their purses and bags and headed into the store.  As soon as they passed the scanners, Laura immediately stopped at a display table that had dozens of necklaces and earrings on it.

“Oh, look at this one!” she exclaimed, holding up a Batsy Hauntson necklace that had a pendant in the shape of a rhinestone covered bat, “Isn’t it adorable?” 

Frankie giggled, “It definitely looks like you.” 

“Yeah,” Clawdeen agreed, sipping from her cup. 

“Don’t encourage her to get more,” Clawd groaned as he came up to them, “She already has enough that you’d think we lived in a cave by now.”

Frankie and Clawdeen chuckled at his joke. Draculaura frowned up at her fiance  and just stuck her tongue out. Clawd only shrugged in a  _can’t help it_ gesture like he couldn’t deny the truth. 

They looked through some more of the jewelry. Laura went with the bat necklace anyway (“Don’t roll your eyes at me!” she exclaimed at Clawd as she carried it away from the table, Frankie and Clawdeen laughing behind her) and picked out a few rings, while Frankie picked out some black and white ball earrings. Clawdeen was currently eyeing a gold necklace that had  a pendant in the shape of a bull’s skull and a crystal hanging from it. 

Taking her eyes away from it for a moment, she took a sip from her drink and looked out through the opening of the store; up ahead was a small sitting area, where customers could pay to have a massage in the chair. 

Over off to the side, there was a man standing by one of the vending machines, his head turned as he seemed to waiting for someone else. 

Clawdeen went still. 

The air suddenly felt twenty degrees colder. 

The man was a vampire. He was a bit tall and had black hair slicked into a greaser style similar to the way Johnny wore his, pale blue eyes, and his complexion was a bit on the gray side. His ears were pointed. He wore a green bomber jacket, some blue jeans, and brown motorcycle boots. He had a five o’clock shadow going on. His jacket was partially unzipped, exposing the blue low collared t-shirt he wore underneath and part of a tattoo that seemed to be running across his chest. Right now, only the Latin word “ _vincit”_ and the letters “om” after it could be read. 

Clawdeen knew what it said in full, though. 

She knew because she had seen the tattoo in full. Along with the vampire’s whole body. 

She knew, because this vampire she was looking at had been one of Striggy’s customers. 

The world started spinning away from her.  Memories of that day hit her full force like a ball to the face; Clawdeen stared at the vampire in horror as she recalled that fateful meeting…

* * *

“ _Well, well, even prettier in person,” the vampire said as he shut the door behind him._

_ Clawdeen lay on the bed, her arms held high above her as they remained handcuffed to the frame. She stared out ahead at her with a dead expression, silently awaiting for him to get whatever he wanted to do out of the way. Her cheeks were tacky with dried tears.  _

_ Today, she had found herself drifting away as the men who came to see her had their way with her, to the point it was barely registering to her who was new and who was still enjoying her. Each time, when she was alone, Clawdeen found it was taking her longer to come back to awareness.  _

_ The vampire wore a smile on his face as he walked over to her. Clawdeen’s nose picked up the scent of hair tonic and cologne. His eyes wandered over the werewolf’s exposed body, lingering at her long legs, her chest, and her face.  _

“ _I used to have a few wolf ghouls myself,” the vampire said as he unzipped his bomber jacket, “Can’t say any of them looked as delightful as you.”_

_ Clawdeen was silent at that. She kept staring at the wall. The vampire didn’t seem to mind, though. He tossed his jacket onto a chair near the wall. He then pulled off his shirt and let it drop to the floor, before he slowly reached out and stroked Clawdeen’s cheek with his knuckles.  _

_ Clawdeen immediately flinched and withdrew from him with a whimper.  _

“ _Aw, you ain’t gotta be scared, darlin’,” the vampire said, a bit of a Cajun accent in his voice, “I’ll make sure to make this fun for the both o’ us.”_

_ He reached out again and tucked some of stray hairs behind her ears. Clawdeen found no comfort in the gesture, though. She cringed as he brushed her cheek again. His skin was ice cold.  _

“ _N-No...” she pitifully protested as his hand traveled down to brush her neck and collarbone with his fingertips, before it dipped down to take hold of her breast. Her cheeks burned with humiliation as he lightly fondled her, while his other hand worked at unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants._

“ _Nice and soft,” the vampire uttered in a low voice, his hand further exploring to caress her stomach and run up the inside of her thigh. Clawdeen let out a whine as he dipped down to touch her between her legs, “So beautiful. Like sculpted from Aphrodite herself.”_

_ He finished undressing himself and leaned over to crawl onto the bed. Clawdeen closed her eyes and turned her head away, sniffling with fear to bury her face against her shoulder.  _

_ Something menacing flashed in the vampire’s pale blue, almost white eyes. He grinned in a devilish way that brought attention to his sharp fangs. He brushed some of her hair away from her neck, exposing the smooth brown skin there.  _

“ _Oh, yeah, you’re gonna be a treat,” he muttered._

_ Then, without any warning, he lunged down bit down hard into the slope of Clawdeen’s shoulders, sinking his fangs deep into her skin.  _

_ Clawdeen jerked and reared her head back with an ear-piercing scream as pain erupted from her left side. The vampire held her down as he greedily sucked her blood, the horrendous sensation of which made Clawdeen’s stomach churn. Her mouth watered with the urge to vomit.  _

“ _Mmmmh,” the vampire moaned as he pulled back, his mouth red with her blood. He licked his lips and smiled down at Clawdeen, “Delicious. You wolves are always **so** rich in flavor.” _

_ He suddenly dipped his head again and bit her again, this time on her breast. His sharp nails dragged down her sides, drawing blood and leaving welts in their wake. Clawdeen screamed at the top of her lungs, her eyes screwing up in pain.  _

“ _STOP!” she howled, “PLEASE, STOP! STOP!”_

_ The vampire pulled back long enough to grip himself; Clawdeen cried out as she felt him enter her. He quickly started to rock his hips fast and hard, all the while looking down at the weeping werewolf with great pleasure.  _

“ _That’s right, baby, scream for me,” he commanded softly, gripping a handful of Clawdeen’s hair and arm, “Scream.”_

_ He bit down on her neck again and began to drink her blood. Clawdeen thrashed against her restraints, screaming in a mixture of torment and great fear as he hurt her, all the while violating her and moaning in pleasure.  _

“ _Sto-op,” Clawdeen begged, her voice going hoarse, “Stop, no...”_

_ His nails raked over her ribs and across her hips. They dug into the soft, sensitive flesh of her belly and ran across the length of her thighs. All the while he raped her, the vampire bent over to lap at her blood from these wounds. In time, Clawdeen’s body was covered in bright red welts and scratches.  _

_ He paused in his thrusts to sit back on his haunches and wiped his mouth. He licked the blood off his hands as he regarded Clawdeen with lustful satisfaction. There was a tattoo on his chest, one with the phrase MORS VINCIT OMNIA inked in large, gothic script.  _

“ _By god, you’re amazing,” he commented, “I can taste the innocence in you.”_

_ Clawdeen sobbed as he grabbed her by the hips and turned her over on her stomach, before he entered her again and began to sodomize her. Her tears made a wet spot on her pillow. He made a few more scratches on her back and licked at the blood there, before his hands slid up to grip her breasts and he pressed his chest against her back.  _

“ _That’s it, baby girl, that’s it,” he murmured into her ear as he moved, “That’s it.”_

_ Clawdeen just bent her head and cried out through the pain. Her whole body stung like she’d been lashed. She desperately held onto the links of her handcuffs, begging for the whole thing to be over soon.  _

* * *

He was here. 

He was here. Only a few feet away from Clawdeen. 

She felt as if the air had suddenly gone out of the room. 

The vampire suddenly raised his head, like he had seen something. He then pushed himself off the little ledge he was leaning against and smiled as a vampiress and two teenagers- one boy and one girl- came up to greet him; the vampire kissed and hugged each of them. 

Clawdeen felt her heart sink with horrifying revelation as she saw the teens were obviously his children, the resemblance uncanny. The girl couldn’t have been more than fourteen or fifteen. 

He seemed oblivious to the fact that he was being watched, as he just slid his arm around the vampire woman’s shoulder and they all left together. Clawdeen watched them go, the blood having since drained completely out of her face. 

That vampire was here. 

He was here in New Salem. 

Which could only mean so did plenty of the other men who’d raped her in Striggy’s basement.

Clawdeen felt her breath hitch. 

Her drink slipped from her hand and splattered onto the floor at her feet, causing the cap to pop off and brown-colored cola to spill everywhere. It soaked into the toes of her boots. She didn’t even notice. 

“Was that you, Clawdeen?” Frankie asked, “Aw, man! It’s everywhere- Clawdeen? Are you okay?” 

Clawdeen didn’t hear her. All she could focus on was the direction where the vampire and his family had gone. 

If he was here, there were others that had to be as well. 

They probably already knew she was here. Already watching her from the shadows, seeing if it was true. 

_ Oh god.  _ She needed to get out of here. 

“Clawdeen!” Frankie called out, stumbling back in surprise as Clawdeen suddenly bolted from the spot, “Clawdeen, w-wait! Where are you going?!” 

Clawdeen didn’t hear her. She didn’t hear anyone but the sound of her own panicked, tight breathing as she ran through the aisles of the department store, shoving displays and clothing racks out of her way as she made her way to its entrance. 

_ She needed to get out of here she couldn’t breathe she needed to get out of here she couldn’t breathe they could be here they could see her they could hurt her she needed to get out of here out of here out of here,  _ her thoughts repeated as they ran together in a jumbled, manic mess. 

That was all Clawdeen focused on as she left the department store and started running through the food court, barely missing other shoppers and avoiding crashing into chairs as she ran in a straight line. Other citizens paused and turned their heads in her direction, alarmed by the werewolf’s behavior.  She neither noticed them nor cared; she just kept running like a mad woman, the slam of her boots echoing through the spacious maul and her purse flailing about in her hands wildly. 

“Clawdeen!” Draculaura cried out, her and the others having caught sight of her running. 

“Clawdeen, wait!” Clawd yelled out to her, “Come back!” 

They received no indication that the werewolf had heard them. The girls gasped in alarm as Clawdeen suddenly collided right into a saleswoman who’d stepped out of the perfume outlet, her arms full of tester bottles. 

“Ah!” Clawdeen exclaimed as they were both sent sprawling onto the floor. The saleswoman dropped the tray in her hands and glass bottles shattered as they hit the floor, covering them both in broken glass and perfume. 

“Clawdeen!” Clawd yelled out in alarm. He quickly shoved the watch he was looking at onto the nearest table as him and Laura started running out to assist her. Concerned shoppers quickly made their way over to the women. 

To Clawdeen, however, right at that moment, they might as well have been mysterious men in black suits and sunglasses coming to take her away. To grab at her and throw her into the back of an unmarker van to bring her back to DC. Bring her back to Aran. 

_ No no nonononononono,  _ her mind roared,  _Get away get away get away GET AWAY._

She scrambled to her feet. The front of her dress was completely soaked in oils and her knees and palms were bleeding from where shards of glass had cut her, but Clawdeen didn’t even notice. As soon as her soles hit the ground, she took off running again. 

Now, everyone in the maul had paused and was watching her as she ran wildly. They veered out of her way as she came towards them, like she was a leper, and stood in place, watching in bewilderment at the strange young woman who was bleeding, dirty, and now sounded like she had just run a marathon. 

_ Need to get away,  _ Clawdeen thought,  _Need to get out of here. Need to get away from THEM._

Her eyes focused just enough to see a sign that pointed for the restrooms up ahead. Clawdeen made a beeline for them, running right past the public ones for the one that was marked Employees Only. 

She was wheezing as she clawed at the door and got it open, before she turned on her heel and yanked it shut behind her. Once it was locked, Clawdeen backed away from it like it was about to be kicked in at any moment. 

She couldn’t breathe. Tears streamed wildly down her face. She was shaking violently. Clawdeen held her hands to her chest and backed up until her back hit the wall. She then slid down it until she was sitting. 

Once she was, Clawdeen wrapped her arms around her knees, brought them to her chest, and proceeded to lose all control. She sobbed wildly, coughing and sputtering as she tried to breathe, only for her diaphragm to contract rapidly and expel any short breaths she took in. She was all out hyperventilating now, unable to calm her racing heart or pull herself together as she let out loud, sputtering sobs that echoed in the bathroom.

Just how many men were roaming around New Salem Maul that had been the same ones to assault her? How many men who had done things like Aran, or like Striggy, who were now casually walking about without a care in the world, who had a girl like Clawdeen in his basement at that very moment? 

That vampire was here. If he had seen her, Clawdeen wasn’t sure she could’ve kept from passing out. 

She wasn’t safe. They were all around her, waiting for her, wanting her. No matter what outcome this trial had, she’d never be safe anywhere. She’d never be safe again. They were everywhere, waiting to strike, possibly even waiting to take her again, keep herself for herself. 

Her wheezing grew rougher. Her chest felt like it was about to explode. She couldn’t get enough air, no matter how fast or how much she was breathing now. Clawdeen’s hands flew to her throat, like she could feel her very airway closing up. 

Her stomach did a flip. Clawdeen made a mad crawl for the toilet and just barely gotten the lid up before she lost the contents of her lunch. The back of her throat burned and her mouth filled with a sour, rotten taste. 

Clawdeen didn’t even bother to flush the toilet as she leaned back, a hand flying to her head as she resumed crying. She closed her eyes and tried to control her breathing to no avail, every inhale and exhale like a sickening whistle. Drool and snot dripped down her nose and chin onto her dress. 

Burying her face in her hands, she curled up again. Everything was hot and cold and she felt dizzy and light headed and it was like she was being squeezed in a giant fist. 

_ Oh god, I’m dying,  _ she thought,  _I’m dying, I’m dying, I’m dying…_

She just barely heard a bunch of voices coming towards the door, before it fell silent once again. 

Then, someone knocked. 

Clawdeen froze. In her panic, her mind could only think of the worst scenario. 

_ It’s him. He saw me and he’s come back to take me. He’ll hurt me again, no, no no no no no-  _

“ _Clawdeen?”_ Clawd suddenly said from outside the door, “ _Could I come in?”_

A small, meak squeak escaped Clawdeen before she went completely silent. She stared at the door over her hands, wide-eyed with fright. She trembled violently. 

“ _Clawdeen, please. Let me come in, let me help you,”_ Clawd pleaded with her, his tone soft but laced with desperation. 

“I...I-I-I-I-I-I can’t,” Clawdeen sputtered out, her voice barely legible. Her legs felt like jelly now and the whole room felt like it was spinning. 

She took a big gulp of air and let it out. It came out as another wheeze. 

Clawd tried again, “ _Please, Clawdeen. We’re worried about you. I don’t know what happened, but please let me in.”_

“I can’t,” Clawdeen said again in a tight voice, “I-I-I can’t get up...” 

“ _Okay, well I’m coming in, all right?”_ Clawd said, “ _I’m going to use a pen to unlock the door and come in. Is that okay?”_

Clawdeen sniffed, “O-O-Okay.” 

She could see the door handle wriggle up and down as Clawd jostled with the lock, before it suddenly flew open and hit against the wall with a bang. Clawd hurried in and shut the door behind him; from just beyond his shoulders, Clawdeen could see the rest of their friends gathered outside the door. 

Clawd’s eyes landed on his sister and widened at her disheveled state. Clawdeen’s knees were cut and bleeding and so her were hands. Her nose was running and her cheeks were tacky with tears and dried mascara. Her makeup was all smeared, her eyeliner forming big blobby raccoon circles around her eyes and her lipstick was a smudged red mess around her lips. Her hair was in disarray and chunks of vomit clung to her curls. Her dress was wet around the front. Her breathing was shallow like she couldn’t get enough air. 

He immediately made his way over to her and knelt down in front of her. His hands reached out to touch her, but he paused and pulled them back as he saw Clawdeen flinch. She looked down and sniffled some more, a pained whine escaping from somewhere deep within her throat. 

“Clawdeen, what...what happened?” Clawd asked, “All of a sudden, you were running like Fenrir was on your tail.” 

Clawdeen sobbed and took in another breath. Her lungs felt like they’d been smoked from the inside. 

“One of them...” she gasped out, “One of them was here.” 

“Who?” 

“One of the...” she began wheezing again, “One of the guys w-w-w-who raped me. H-H-H-He was here...” 

Clawd froze. He gaped at her for a few seconds, before his expression suddenly hardened and his hackles rose. 

“Where is he?” he asked sternly, “Did he come up to you? Did he try to-” 

“N-N-No,” Clawdeen stammered out, “B-B-But I saw him, f-f-f-from the front, he...h-he had a _family_ Clawd, a daughter w-w-w-who couldn’t have been older than me when he...when he...” 

Her throat closed up again and she burst into a fresh round of tears. She began hyperventilating again and hugged herself. “He...h-h-h-h-he...” 

“Shhh,” Clawd said, gently pulling her into his chest. He rubbed her back as she collapsed against him and gripped his jacket to the point her claws tore into the fabric, “It’s okay. He’s not here, he can’t hurt you. Look at me...” 

He pushed her away slightly to look her in the eyes. Clawdeen wheezed and struggled to breathe. 

“Take a deep breath, okay?” Clawd advised, “Breathe with me. Breathe in...” 

He took a deep inhale. Clawdeen tried to do the same. She must’ve sounded like a dying whale. 

“Breathe out,” Clawd said, lightly exhaling. Clawdeen did the same, only to choke up again with another sob. 

“Breathe in, breathe out,” Clawd continued to advise, “There you go, that’s it. Breathe in, breathe out. Stay with me, okay? Listen to my voice. It’s just me and the gang. It’s just me.” 

Clawdeen closed her eyes and continued following his instructions. He encouraged her with small little comments. Slowly, her panting let up, and Clawdeen found she was able to breathe normally again. 

“Attaghoul, breathe out,” Clawd said a final time as she inhaled. As she let it out, he asked, “Do you need anything? Any water?” 

“N-N-No,” Clawdeen said, wiping her eyes. Clawd leaned over to grab some paper towels and handed them to her, which she used to blow her nose and wipe at the mess on her face. Clawd grabbed one for himself and helped clean her hair. He then stood up and wet some others with the sink, before he leaned down and slowly started cleaning the blood off her knees. He winced at them; some of them looked deep and wouldn’t stop bleeding. 

“Here,” he said, taking the soiled paper towels from her and throwing them in the trash. He then pulled her back into an embrace; Clawdeen hugged him back tightly, deeply inhaling his scent.

“I’m here, I’m here,” Clawd continued to say as he heard her let out another little whimper, gently stroking her hair, “I’m here for you. I know this is hard, but you’ll get through this.” 

“I wanna go home, Clawd,” Clawdeen sniffled against him, “I don’t want to be here anymore.” 

Clawd nodded, holding her head to his chest, “Okay, we can do that. We’ll leave right now, okay? We’ll go home and get you changed and help you clean up all those cuts.” 

He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her temple. “It’s okay, _s’ouermana_. I love you.”

Clawdeen took a gulp of air, “I love you too, _s’ouermano.”_

They lay there for a few more minutes, before Clawd finally got to her feet and helped her stand up. Clawdeen winced as she felt her knees sting; Clawd gathered up some toilet paper and pressed some against them, before tying them with another few spare lengths to make makeshift gauze and a bandage. He took off his coat and put it over Clawdeen’s shoulders. 

Clawdeen looked at the door apprehensively. 

“They’re...they’re all going to stare at me,” she said, “T-They’ll think I’m crazy.” 

“No they won’t,” Clawd tried to assure her, “And if they do, I’ll rip their damned heads off.” 

By this point, Clawdeen felt defeated. Her knees and her hands hurt and she felt disgusting as the overwhelming scent of oils and alcohol made her lightheaded. She didn’t try to argue. 

Clawd pulled her against his side and gently cradled her as he led them to the door, before he opened it. 

Laura and everyone else stood around in a circle. Clawdeen wouldn’t look at them; she felt her cheeks flush with shame at her embarrassing state. 

“I’m taking Clawdeen home,” Clawd told them. 

“Do we need to get anything for you guys?” Deuce asked, looking down at Clawdeen’s knees with concern, “There’s a drugstore around here...” 

Clawd smiled and shook his head, “No thanks. The cuts aren’t anything serious.” 

“Here,” Frankie said, holding out Clawdeen’s bags, “You, um, dropped these when...you know.” 

Howleen took them from her. Clawdeen lowered her head further, feeling guilty. 

“I’m sorry,” she muttered. 

“Come on,” Clawd said to Laura and Howleen, “We’re going home.” 

They nodded and followed after him as he led Clawdeen from the hallway to the maul towards where they were parked. It was much quieter than it had been just a few minutes earlier; as they walked, Clawdeen heard conversations cut off. Her gut twisted; she knew they were staring at her. She kept her gaze to the floor. 

“Don’t you all have some Christmas shopping to do?” she heard Romulus snarl at them, “Mind your damn business!” 

Everyone clearly didn’t want to cross the alpha wolf, and immediately the familiar sounds started up again. Clawdeen could still feel their eyes baring into her, though, as the four of them walked through the lower level and made it to the exit. 

_ There goes the crazy lady, they’re probably thinking,  _ Clawdeen thought bitterly,  _The crazy one who just makes a mess and runs away from it. They probably think ‘Gee, she should be medicated, or locked away where we don’t have to see it.’_

Once they were in the car, Clawdeen sitting in the front seat, Howleen leaned over the dashboard and looked at her. 

“Clawdeen, what...what happened back there?” she asked, “You were acting like someone was chasing you.” 

“Later, Leena,” Clawd said sternly, “She doesn’t want to talk about it right now.” 

“I just want to go home,” Clawdeen repeated, leaning her head against the window. 

The memory of the vampire wouldn’t leave her, though, as Clawd pulled the car out of the lot and he started to head towards the exit. She thought of the pain of being with him. Of those cold, cold blue eyes of his. The freezing coldness of his skin. The sharpness of his fangs. 

If he was able to do what he did and walk around without a problem, who knew how many other people in New Salem there were that did the same thing and nobody had a clue? How many other people were faking their smiles and their sincerity and all the while became the most monstrous, most evil behind closed doors. 

Who could she possibly trust, after this? 

How did she know she wasn’t being set up at this moment? 

* * *

( _Later that_ _evening_ _…)_

Clawdeen sat on the edge of her bunk, looking out the window in a daze. It had been a few hours since they had come home and she had since cleaned up. She’d changed out of her soiled dress into a baggy t-shirt and shorts and her knees and palms had been bandaged up. 

It was dark out, but she didn’t turn on the lights. She was quite a bit in her head at the moment and thus barely noticed. 

The days events replayed in her mind. From the fun she’d had with going out with her friends to the little gifts they’d bought for her, from the complete freak out she had had at the sight of seeing the vampire. 

How could a day that started out being so good become so fucking bad? 

Her shoulders dropped in resignation. She felt defeated. Tired. Helpless. It was bad enough with everything about the trial now coming out, but this was just salt in the wound. 

“Meow?” 

Clawdeen looked down. Crescent sat at her feet. She was looking up at the werewolf with worried confusion, her bright green eyes glowing in the dark from their night shine. She had been resting in her bed for a while, seeing that Clawdeen seemed to have been wanted some time to herself, but now with it being dark out and the werewolf having not moved from her spot for the last hour, she was concerned. 

Wordlessly, Clawdeen reached down and took hold of the plump plum kitty in her arms. She cradled Crescent to her chest and nuzzled the top of her fuzzy head. Then, silently, she began to weep again into her curly fur. Crescent licked her cheek, trying to bring comfort to her. 

Downstairs, Clawrk and Harriet, who both had just arrived home, listened in bewilderment as Howleen recounted the scene at the mall to them. 

“She recognized one of the men who raped her?” Harriet repeated in shock, her arms crossed tight against her chest as she gaped at her younger daughter. 

Howleen nodded. She sat on the couch and fiddled with her nail polish. “She said that he knew him from when...from when she was at the house the Mawcorn guy and Ge- Faeth were staying in.” 

Harriet ran a hand through her hair. “Oh god, poor dear. Is she okay now?” 

Her answer was a shrug from the tan she-wolf. Howleen replied, “Physically, I guess, but she’s stayed in our room since we came home. She left once for dinner, but...” 

She gestured to the kitchen. Sitting beside the sink was a noticeably still-full bowl of chili.

“I can’t fucking believe this,” Clawrk said with a growl. He turned around and headed for the kitchen. “I’m calling the police.” 

“And what, Clawrk?” Harriet questioned before he could leave, “Tell them that some random stranger that Clawdeen has seen at the mall once is a potential rapist? What if she doesn’t want to talk to them?” 

In a manner that was unlike him, Clawrk whirled and snapped at his wife, “Well, what are we supposed to do then, Harriet? Let her lock herself away in her bedroom, afraid of the world around her? Amp up our personal security until we’re living like conspiracy theorists in an underground bunker?! Let her think that everyone is out to get her now?” 

Howleen shied away at her father’s angry tone. It was very rarely that she ever saw her father speak to her mother so harshly before. Harriet, however, didn’t seem to take offense to his loud tone. 

“I don’t know,” she admitted, “But we have to think about Clawdeen in all this. Forcing her to relive those moments isn’t going to help her.” 

Clawrk hung his head. He grabbed the back of the chair for support as he gathered his thoughts. He let out a breath; this time, when he looked back up at his wife, his eyes were tired and desperate. Howleen felt her heart sink. 

“We’re her parents, Harriet,” he said, “We’re supposed to _protect_ her.”

“I know, my love,” Harriet responded, coming up to him and cupping his face in her hands, “And this is going to be hard and I don’t know all the answers. Something like this is unexpected for all of us, but through it all, we have to make sure Clawdeen knows we’re _there_ first and foremost.” 

She tugged on his hand. Clawrk came around the chair and allowed her to pull him into a hug. Clawrk rested his head against her shoulder. 

Slowly, Howleen got up from the couch and shuffled over to them. Clawrk looked up at her and held his arm out to allow her to get in on the hug as well. She threw an arm around both their shoulders and leaned on Clawrk’s shoulder. They all took comfort in each other. 

Today was just another harsh reality check for all of them that what happened had in fact happened. Later, Clawrk and Harriet would go to Clawdeen’s room and comfort her, possibly talk her through it if she was in the mood for it- they would both assure her that Jennifur definitely needed to hear about this- but for now, they themselves needed to gather their strength.

It was a rough day and maybe would be a rough night, for them and Clawdeen. 

The one comfort to be found was that tomorrow was a new day and hopefully, a better one than the last.


	10. Chapter 9: The Blame Game

“...and then all I could focus on was getting to somewhere I could keep away from _him._ I ended up running to the employees’ bathroom and had a total freak out,” Clawdeen finished explaining, “Clawd found me afterward and calmed me down and took me home. But everyone was already staring by the time he managed to get me to come out.”

She slumped back in the seat, her arms crossed tightly around her chest. She looked down at the carpet, her brows furrowed in confusion, shame, and frustration. Across from her, Jennifur sat at her couch, listening intently.

Clawdeen’s initial appointment with her wasn’t actually until two days from now, but after the whole scene that had happened at the maul, her parents encouraged her to try and get in touch with the werecat to talk it all out instead of letting it stew and risk her getting worked up into another panic attack again.

“That sounds horrible,” Jennifur commented when the werewolf finally finished, “I’m so sorry you had to experience that, Clawdeen.”

Clawdeen said, “I mean, I’m already fucking stressed out with this stupid fucking trial, but now, it’s like ‘Oh, you thought that was bad? Let’s remind you that all you’re other rapists are out there and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it!’”

“How does that realization make you feel?” Jennifur asked, “How often does that thought come to you?”

“Only every other fucking day,” Clawdeen snapped at her. She gripped her sleeves in both her hands tighter, her grip threatening to to tear the fabric.

“Lately, I think I’m doing okay, that I’m actually fucking getting better,” she began to rant, “And then I’ll be out walking with my sister or playing with my little brother o-or trying to watch TV, and then something will happen that will make me think of Aran or some other John or something that isn’t even _close_ to resembling any of them but my mind mistakes it for it, and then it’s like I’m suddenly shoved into a fucking box that’s closing in on me.

“Then, before I know it, I can’t stop looking out the window, fearing some unmarked black car is going to be sitting out there, watching me,” Clawdeen continued, “Or that I’m going to find some fucking strange guy following me o-or that one day when I pick up the phone, I’m going to hear Aran on the other end. It’s like, it’s like the whole fucking world suddenly feels like it’s getting smaller and smaller and I can’t get the fuck out.”

Jennifur nodded quietly, listening as the auburn-haired werewolf continued to rant. Clawdeen suddenly stopped and pursed her lips together, her eyes flooding with tears.

“I mean...What am I going to do, Jennifur?” Clawdeen asked her, “What if...what if this is all for nothing?”

“You mean, the trial?” Jennifur asked.

Clawdeen nodded, “What if somehow- _somehow_ \- Aran ends up getting found not guilty or there’s a fluke or something and they can’t charge him?”

She leaned forward and put her elbows on her knees to rest her head between her hands as she stared at the ground.

“How do I even...even _go on,_ if that happens, knowing he’s out there?” Clawdeen asked, “How could I ever feel safe o-or try to live my life again if I know he could always be still doing what he does, or even looking for me?”

She covered her face with her hands and began to cry. Her whimpers echoed through the small space of the room. Jennifur stayed silent, allowing her to get it all out as she regarded the werecat with a sad, sympathetic expression.

For once, Clawdeen was glad to the silence. In that moment, there was nothing the therapist could’ve said that could alleviate the helplessness that she felt.

* * *

Nino was the one to drive her home after her appointment ended. Neither of them spoke as he drove, though he kept shooting Clawdeen nervous little glances out of the corner of his eye.

“So...did it work out all right?” he asked at one point at an intersection.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Clawdeen muttered, leaning against the window.

Nino winced, but didn’t push her. He turned on the radio, hoping the sounds of music would fill the uncomfortable silence that stretched between them.

As they walked through the door, Clawdeen could see Vlad seated in the living room on the couch, in the middle of talking to her parents, his hands gesturing wildly. He paused and they all glanced up as Clawdeen and Nino walked through the door.

“Hey,” Clawrk greeted, “It’d go okay?”

All Clawdeen gave was a shrug as she took off her coat. She hung it up and glanced between the three of them as she walked into the living room.

“What’s going on?” she asked, noting their expressions.

“Vlad was just telling us about some things that happened during today’s hearing,” Harriet said as Clawdeen took a seat beside her.

Clawdeen furrowed her brows and glanced at Vlad. She knew from Draculaura he’d been out of town for the last few days on a business trip, but according to Laura, he was also staying informed through Archie of the proceedings. He looked like he’d just gotten back, Clawdeen realized; he was wearing a suit, but he’d taken off his blazer and had loosened his tie and untucked his shirt.

“What? Did something else happen?” Clawdeen asked him.

She felt a sudden rock of dread fall into her stomach. “I-Is it anything bad?”

Vlad replied, “Well, it depends on your definition of bad. I was just telling your parents that yesterday, after the convention I had to go to got out, I decided to try and...pop in to the proceeding going on, see what was currently being talked about.”

“You did?” Clawdeen raised her brows, “Can’t that get you in trouble or something? If you’re not, like, a witness?”

“I think I have a right to be informed of something going on that directly involves one of my best friend’s families. Besides, do you really think they could’ve stopped someone like _me?”_ Vlad asked, his last question laced with mild amusement.

Clawdeen shrugged. He had a point. She put her hands between her knees. “So...what exactly happened?”

Vlad took a deep breath and rubbed his hands together. He took off his glasses for a moment to rub his eyes, before he began.

“As I was telling your parents, after my meeting was finished, I made my way to the courthouse and slipped in right as the hearing was beginning,” he started.

He shot Clawdeen a small grin, “As you know, the king of the vampires as his ways with his totally awesome powers.”

That got him a small smile from the werewolf, though Clawdeen shook her head. “Mr. Dr...”

“Anyways,” Vlad continued, “I was sitting in the back, listening in. Let me tell you, the atmosphere was tense. You probably couldn’t cut it all the way through if you had a sword with you….”

* * *

_(Yesterday…)_

_It took every fiber in Dracula’s being to not leap over the pew and claw the eyes out of the defense attorney in front of him as he listened to the red-skinned sea creature argue for his client’s innocence._

_As he was currently telling Clawdeen, it was clear that nobody was in a good mood in the court room. On the defense side, he could see the back of the heads of the pimps as they sat at the front, waiting patiently as they listened to one of their attorneys. Several men and women sat behind them that Dracula could only presume were their families; the older monsters all bared some resemblance to the men, obviously their parents, while some of the younger-looking women bore wedding bands. One of them even had a cub on her lap that couldn’t have been more than a year or two, who bore a striking resemblance to the weretiger man that was part of the defense._

_Dracula’s eyes wandered over to one of them, the satyr that sat second to last on the left side of the row. His fists balled as he glared at the curly orange-haired back of the man’s head._

_Knowing that was the man who had had Clawdeen for all these years. Who had hurt and tortured his best friend’s daughter for his own sick gain. Dracula balled his fists._

_He would keep his composure, out of awareness of his status and out of respect for Clawrk to not make a scene. But by Lilith, was he tempted to forego everything and show these bastards just how he had earned his status as the most feared of the vampires for all those thousands of years…_

“ _...As my understanding occurs, Miss Flameos, you were highly vocal of your opposition to several of Mr. Polidori’s decisions several times, were you not?” he heard the defense attorney ask, turning his attention back to what was going on._

_On the witness stand, the young phoenix woman sat, glaring at the attorney with a hard stare in her eyes, though Dracula could see the uneasiness in her face. She was a beautiful woman, admittedly, with vibrant yellow skin and orange hair that was styled in a bit of a punk style, with her jagged fringe hanging in her face. The white polka dot blouse she was wearing didn’t seem to suit her at all, and she kept fiddling with the coin charm on her necklace._

“ _Yes,” the phoenix said gruffly._

“ _But then,” the defense attorney continued, “Mr. Polidori says your resistance gradually lessened and over time you became more compliant to his requests. Why is that?”_

_Dracula listened as the phoenix scoffed, “I wouldn’t exactly call them ‘requests’. More like demands that came with the threat of getting my ass whooped if I even so much as looked at him wrong in response._

“ _I stopped fighting because what was the use?” she answered, “If I said no, he beat me. If I said yes, he **still** beat me, but the only difference was he’d do it less often. That good enough for you?” _

_It was clear this one had a hot head in her, Dracula thought. He admired it; it took a lot for a person to be able to still have that little bit of fight in them after something like what she and Clawdeen had been forced to experience._

_In front of him, several of the family members of the girls testifying scoffed at the phoenix’s response. The defense attorney only held up his hands._

“ _Let me ask you another question, Miss Flameos,” he said, “Is it true that **you** , though, were the one who...flirted with him several times? Initiated the intimacy that you two shared on several occasions?” _

_At that, the phoenix stiffened. Even from the back where he sat, Dracula could see her cheeks burn bright orange from the flush that appeared on her face. Her head lowered like she was embarrassed; she looked away from the defense attorney._

“ _Y...Y-Yes,” she answered. Her voice was much smaller this time._

“ _And would you say,” the defense attorney continued, “That perhaps you gave him the impression then, that you actually were interested in the idea of a sexual relationship with him-?”_

“ _A ‘relationship?’ Are you fucking kidding me?” the phoenix snapped angrily, “Is how you’re going to try and frame it, Bryce?_

“ _No, I wasn’t interested in a fucking ‘relationship’,” she spat at him, “I did what I did so that for **once** in a while, I could go to bed feeling good instead of feeling like I got run over by a fucking truck and then chucked off a cliff. I gave in, okay? Is that what you want to hear? Yeah, I fucking sucked his dick when I didn’t have to. Yeah, I fucking spread my legs and fucked him and got my rocks off when I didn’t need to. It was the only way sometimes to keep him in a good mood, lest I end the night with him fucking cutting my stomach like a Christmas ham or putting his goddamn cigarettes out on me.” _

_Several of the people in the pews made noises of shock. Others scoffed and muttered comments of disgust. Dracula just shook his head. The defense attorney stepped back, clearly surprised by her outburst. The phoenix was clenching her fists on her lap, but they were noticeably shaking. She herself looked like she was on the verge of tears._

“ _Miss Flameos,” the attorney said, “I wasn’t trying to-”_

“ _Oh, fuck off,” the phoenix said to him._

“ _Miss Flameos,” the judge said, turning to her, “Please, keep your composure. I don’t want to have to dismiss you.”_

_The phoenix jutted her lips out like she wanted to retort something, but knew better to hold her tongue. She sat back in the seat, crossing her arms._

“ _No,” she added, “To answer the question, NO, I don’t think I gave him the impression I was interested. He made it clear that he didn’t really give a rat’s ass of what I thought. He made it clear several times.”_

“ _No further questions, your honor,” the defense attorney said. He turned around and headed back to station._

_As soon as he left, Dracula watched as Archie got to his feet and approached the witness stand._

“ _Callida, you mentioned how you performed these sexual favors for Mr. Polidori in order to satisfy him to keep him from getting angry and being violent towards you,” he said, “Did this always have the affect you desired? Did it always work to keep him passive?”_

_The phoenix’s shoulders dropped. She confessed, “No. Sometimes, we’d do it, and then literally right afterward, he’d get upset at me for something or another and go right back to calling me stupid, or slapping me, or kicking me. Sometimes, he’d hurt me even when were right in the middle of starting just because he liked to hear me cry.”_

_She swallowed hard and clenched her fists on the edge of her skirt. “It was like nothing I could, sometimes, was enough for him. I’d get all the money he wanted, I’d play along and do everything he asked, and he still would want to hurt me. It was like it just more arousing to him to see me begging him to stop.”_

_In the crowd, one of the woman hung her head and stifled a sob of despair. Dracula and a few of the men looked towards the defense table in anger. The defense attorney just wrote on his pad, while Hoovestein and the others just looked away._

_Dracula raised his head as someone in front of him suddenly shot to his feet and swung the pew door open, before he marched out and bolted for the defense table._

_He was a phoenix, as well, though he was noticeably much taller than the woman on the stand. From their similarity in appearance, it was obvious they were related._

_Everyone turned in their seats at the noise and looked in his direction just as he lunged for the vampire sitting at the end of the row and grabbed him by the shoulder, forcing him to face him. The vampire glanced up at him in shock._

“ _You wanna rape my sister, you sick fuck?!” the phoenix hissed at him; he didn’t even wait for the vampire to respond as he decked him right across the face, sending him flying to the ground, before he flew on top of him._

_The courtroom immediately erupted in a series of shouts as the men began fighting. Archie and the other members of the prosecution whirled around to see what happened. The vampire held his hands up as the phoenix began to pummel him. A few women screamed._

“ _Sick bastard!” the phoenix continued to snarl, getting the vampire right in the nose._

“ _Aiden, no!” Callida shouted from the witness stand. She stood up._

“ _Security!” the judge shouted._

_Dracula grabbed the edge of his seat, ready to intervene himself. At that moment, though, the bailiff and other guards ran at the two men and hurriedly pulled them apart. The phoenix had both his arms restrained, but fought against them as he spat at the vampire._

“ _Remove that man at once,” the judge ordered._

_As they dragged the phoenix man from the courtroom, he looked over at snarled at the vampire, who was being helped to his feet by the defense attorney and the alligator cryptid who was on trial with him. His bloody nose had quickly healed, but now there was blood on the collar of his shirt and on his philtrum. Dracula could also see a quickly healing cut on his lip from where one of his fangs had cut the flesh._

“ _You’re lucky you’re still breathing, motherfucker!” the phoenix man shouted at him, “You better they hope they lock you up, because the minute you’re on these streets, you’re dead! You hear me! DEAD!”_

_A woman who was sitting on the defense side stood up herself and whirled on him. She was a vampire with curly red hair._

“ _ANIMAL!” she shouted at him, her fists balled at her sides._

_She then turned and turned in the direction of his sister, who was still standing at the witness stand; the latter looked devastated as she watched her brother get escorted out of the courtroom._

“ _Look at what you’ve done!” the vampiress screamed at her, “First you want to spread lies and now you’re getting your thugs to beat him up?!”_

“ _E-Excuse me?!” Callida questioned, flabbergasted._

“ _Ghouls like you were always jealous of people like him!” the vampiress spat, “You know you’re nothing but a dumb whore, and now you want to make everyone else miserable for your fifteen minutes of fame!”_

_Dracula furrowed his brows at the vampiress. She actually looked like she was on the verge of tears for what had happened to the brunette. He felt ire and revulsion at her reaction and sat up to say something._

_Someone else cut him to the chase, however, as a third woman on the prosecution side stood up herself and glared at the vampiress. She was a baohban sith whose pearl white skin almost made her blend in to the white walls of the court room. Her golden blonde hair and green eyes nearly glowed against her complexion._

“ _An’ fa ur ye tae gab about bein’ a dumb whore when ye’re sleepin wit’ a feckin’ rapist, ye mingin’ slag!” she spat at the vampire._

_That caused another wave of exclamations to go through the crowd as everyone turned to watch them. The vampiress’s bright pink eyes burned with fury at the baohban sith’s response. She gripped her purse like she wanted to throw it at the latter as she started forward herself._

“ _Order in the court! Order in the court!” the judge demanded as she banged on her gavel. The hard pounds echoed in the court room like thunder, “Everyone take their seats at once and be quiet or leave! The next person who talks about of turn, I will immediately have held in contempt!”_

_The women both obeyed, though they glared at each other from across the room venomously. The baohban sith took a seat beside her husband, who put his arm around her shoulders as he whispered something to her; he looked at the vampiress with equal hatred._

_Dracula shook his head, unable to believe the scene that had just occurred. Typical; another person who, in their denial of thinking their loved one was a criminal, was more inclined to toss any blame on the potential victim as them just being jealous or vindictive. It made him feel great shame._

_The judge looked around the room, trying to spot anyone else who would possibly want to cause trouble. When it was clear everyone was back on their best behavior, she settled in her seat._

“ _Now, we shall continue with where we left off,” she said, “Prosecutors, call your next witness.”_

* * *

Clawdeen cringed as the vampire finished up recounting his experience from the day before. She had a momentary feeling of being glad that she had decided not to testify; she didn’t think she’d be able to sit in that court room. The amount of aggression would’ve for sure driven her crazy.

“Disgusting,” Harriet said, “How could that vampire defend him like that? Especially when there’s evidence and the literal witness is right there?!”

“Many people, unfortunately, have a hard time coming to grips with someone they care about not being the person they thought they were,” Vlad said, “Especially when that person is their spouse. It’s difficult to reconcile the person who go to sleep with every night is someone who has also repeatedly taken part in kidnapping and abusing young girls.”

Nino scoffed. He’d taken a seat besides Vlad, “It wouldn’t be difficult. Just don’t be dating a guy who’s a fucking rapist.”

Poor Starla, Clawdeen thought. The thought of being on the witness stand and having to be stared at by everyone in the courtroom, especially Aran, was what ultimately made her back out from serving as a witness. She couldn’t imagine how difficult it could’ve been for the phoenix to have to do that in addition to Bryce’s supposed ghoulfriend screaming at her and claiming she was lying, especially with her brother then being unable to provide her any kind of support with him now being kicked out.

“Lest to say, Archie was overall frustrated at how it all went down,” Vlad said, linking his fingers to rest on his knee, “It was only a few minutes, a but few minutes gone to waste, no less. The judge ended up calling it to be paused early. Archie hated it; he says he was hoping they could get started in on Hoovestein yesterday and maybe hopefully sink them all by today’s end.”

“Or just get them all out without a slap on the wrist” Clawdeen muttered.

They all turned to her. She didn’t pay them any attention, her gaze distractedly looking out the window, where she one of the swings on the jungle gym outside sway in the breeze.

The encounter with the vampire at the maul the other day had shaken her to the core, and now all her doubts and fears were coming at her even stronger. What was already a flood was now a tsunami, tornado, and tidal wave built into one.

Even if Aran was convicted, there were still others like the vampire in the maul, who would still be going about without any kind of comeuppance for their horrendous acts. Hell, for all Clawdeen knew, the latter was still doing it to this day with some other ghoul in someone else’s basement.

And she’d been drugged half the time she was kept in Striggy’s basement, so there were an even greater number of men who’d had her whose faces she didn’t even know or see. There was no telling how many men Clawdeen had passed on the street or the post office or even at Jennifur’s office who’d hurt and violated her that she would have no idea.

Those men could be watching her from their windows right now, remembering the memory of her and savoring in it. Maybe even hoping they could get her for themselves one day with the correct planning.

The thought weighed on her like an albatross around her neck with an extra tight noose. It made her tired.

“Clawdeen...” Harriet began, sensing her defeated attitude.

“I’m going to go take a nap,” Clawdeen said, getting up without waiting for her to finish.

She kept her gaze ahead as she walked passed them and headed to the stairs. They were all still staring at her as she held onto the railing and climbed up, but made no attempt to stop her.

Howleen was at her desk as she entered the bedroom, currently concerning herself with some online homework. She turned in her seat as Clawdeen shut the door and shuffled over to her bed.

“Hey,” she greeted, pulling her lollipop out of her mouth, “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Clawdeen said. She tossed her purse onto her desk chair and sat on the edge of her bed to pull off her shoes, before she lay down and turned away from her sister, “I’m going to rest a bit.”

“Okay,” Howleen said, “I’ll try not to be too loud.”

“Mmmm,” was all she got as a response. Clawdeen curled up into a ball and grasped her pillow with her hand.

She had barely closed her eyes and already felt the familiar haze of tiredness overtaking her. Her breathing soon enough evened out and within only a few minutes, she was already deep asleep. Not even the loud clacking of Howleen’s fingers on her keyboard or the younger’s wolf smacking of the gum in her sucker disturbed her.

* * *

_Clawdeen found herself walking through the hallways of Monster High. Her purse was hung over her shoulders and her folders and books were held to her chest in her arms. She glanced down at herself to find she was wearing her old pink tiger stripe top and purple miniskirt that she used to sport all the time freshman year._

_Looking back up, Clawdeen continued to move. She was unsure of where she was going, but her movements were automatic. Like she wasn’t quite able to control herself. Other students brushed passed her as they walked by or stood by their lockers, getting things out._

_Only something was off. Something wasn’t quite right._

_It was awfully quiet for the hallways. People were talking, but their voices were low and whispered. Clawdeen looked around, confused at the strange silence. She caught the gaze of a triclops, only for the three eyed ghoul to regard her coldly, like she offended merely by Clawdeen’s presence._

_They were all staring at her, Clawdeen realized._

_From over their shoulders, to just from behind their lockers, to where they stood against the wall, everyone was staring at her. And they were staring at her in disgust. Like she had just giant sore on her face or she stunk._

_Clawdeen rubbed her hand on her cheeks, forehead, chin and nose. Her palms came back spotless. She looked back up at them, frowning in displeasure._

_She started to question them, “The hell are y’all looking at-”_

“ _Whore.”_

_Clawdeen went still. The students in front of her all glared back at her._

_It had come from somewhere in front, but nowhere did she see anyone’s lips move._

“ _Slut,” someone suddenly whispered._

“ _Skank,” came another murmur._

_Clawdeen took a step back._

“ _What did she think was going to happen with her dressed like that?” she heard someone hiss. Still nobody’s lips moved._

“ _I heard she had already fucked half the softball team by the time they got her,” she heard behind her._

“ _T-T-That’s not true...” Clawdeen tried to whimper. She turned to face either side, desperately looking for whoever was responsible for saying it._

_All around her, students continued to look at her. Their eyes were hateful and disgusted. All around them, voices whispered and murmured but nobody looked like they were actually talking. It was like the voices were being carried in by the wind._

“ _She’s a werewolf, what do you expect? They hump everything and anything that has a leg.”_

“ _She probably wasn’t even kidnapped. I bet her family made it all up and just got rid of her because they couldn’t stand having such a slut in the family.”_

“ _I heard she did it for publicity. Her dumb little Scaris show didn’t get her far enough, so now she’s got to put her name in the news for people to feel sorry for her.”_

“ _She deserved it.”_

“ _Why didn’t she fight back?”_

“ _I bet she liked it when he hurt her. She looks like she’d be into that.”_

“ _Aran says you wanted him every night.”_

_Nobody had moved, and yet the world suddenly felt smaller. Clawdeen whirled around in the circle, feeling like it was all suddenly closing in on her. Their gazes felt suffocating, their whispers and sneers like the maddening drone of cicadas. They came from nowhere and yet everywhere._

_The voices continued to throw accusations at her: “If he hurt her, she probably said something to deserve it.”_

“ _Who would want to fuck a mangy dog like that?”_

“ _They were found innocent, so obviously she was lying.”_

_Clawdeen took a step backward._

_Her foot touched nothing but empty air. She screamed as she felt herself falling backwards, her books and notes flying from her hands and fluttering in the air._

_She fell through empty blackness, the hallways and the students disappearing from above her like she had fallen into some great big hole._

_And yet, the voices continued to whisper. They came from all around her._

“ _She was always a whore...”_

“ _Mutts don’t get raped...”_

“ _She deserved it...”_

* * *

With a harsh gasp, Clawdeen awoke. She pushed herself on her hands, her hair falling in her face as she panted for breath.

A flicker of movement caught the corner of her eye. She turned her head sharply. Draculaura sat on the edge of her bed, her hands raised in caution. It was sunset out; Howleen had since left the room, leaving the two ghouls alone.

“It’s okay, it’s okay!” she assured, “It’s just me.”

Slowly, Clawdeen relaxed. She took a deep breath and curled up on her bed, sitting cross-legged as she hugged her pillow to her chest. She closed her eyes. Laura took a seat next to her.

“What happened?” she asked, “Did you have another bad dream?”

Clawdeen nodded. Laura rested a gentle hand against her leg.

“Did it have to do with the trial?”

“Kinda...” Clawdeen said, opening her eyes. She looked down at her pillow and rested it in her lap. Her finger began to trace the paisley patterns on it.

“I can’t let it go, Laura,” she stated, “All I can think of is the possibility, no matter how small, that he might go free.”

“Clawdeen, they _will_ be punished. You’ll see,” Laura insisted.

“But if they’re not?” Clawdeen asked, turning to her, “What if they’re not, Lala? What if by some infraction o-or overstep by Archie and them or some loophole, they _don’t_ get punished? A-And if not them, then what...what about the other guys like the vampire? What about them? Huh?”

Laura opened her mouth to try and protest, but Clawdeen kept on rambling. The words came out in a flood.

“I-I mean, I know we can go to the police, but what do I say? ‘This man looks like the guy who raped me in someone’s basement five years ago, maybe?’ They’ll never buy it,” she continued, “There’s no evidence to convict any of them but my memory, and even then I can’t trust myself all the way because I was too fucked up to remember a lot of it sometimes.”

“Clawdeen, _please_ calm down,” Laura said in worry, noticing how the werewolf was starting to get more and more panicked.

Clawdeen sat back down on the edge of her bed. She gripped the hem of her skirt tightly as she started to rock back and forth. It was hard to tell if it was some sort of coping mechanism or if another sign of her starting to lose control.

“And with Aran...what if they do the same thing with me that they did to Callida yesterday, like your dad said had happened? What if they find out all the times I...I did give in and that’s that? The other girls weren’t there to see it, they can’t say for sure that I didn’t...that I didn’t try to fight...”

Her vision grew blurry with tears. Laura felt something tug in her chest as she watched as the werewolf seemed to grow smaller. Like she shrank with every self doubt. It pained her to see her this way; her own eyes filled with tears.

“But I...I didn’t know what to do by then,” Clawdeen said, her cheeks growing wet once more, “I-I-I just wanted to be able to go without pain for _once_ in a while. I-I did, I didn’t want to listen to him o-o-or do what he said, b-b-but he beat me every time if I didn’t. H-He drugged me every full moon so I could barely even _think_ straight, let alone fight him; it was like I was in and out of consciousness those days. I was so scared that one day it was going to be too much a-a-and...and that I was going to die…”

“Clawdeen...”

“I-I-I just didn’t want to hurt...” Clawdeen said, not listening; by this point, it seemed more like she was trying to convince herself than she was Laura, even though the vampire believed her one hundred percent.

She continued, “After the first night I tried to leave, I...I was so afraid of getting hurt like that again. Of him hurting _you_ guys. It was like I was hurting every single hour and I just wanted one day where I could feel good and not have it feel like it was burning or stinging or aching. Where he was gentle...”

Heat filled her face in shame as the words passed her lips. Clawdeen hung her head, her shoulders hiking up as she sniffled.

“I...I liked it when he was gentle, Lala,” she confessed, “I-I-I liked it because it was every other day there was nothing but...b-b-but pain and _filthiness...”_

Her cheeks burned. Her attempt to try and convince herself only got more muddled to her confused, overwhelmed mind. She thought of the nightmare she had just had, which only further seemed to cause her defenses to crumble.

“I still felt filthy, though...” she confessed, “...They were right. I’m such a whore...”

With that, Clawdeen lowered her head and began to sob. Her shoulders went up and down as she wept, shame and disgust with herself burning deeply in her stomach like a hot coal. She covered with her hands with her face. Her tears dripped down in between her fingers.

A pair of cool hands suddenly wrapped around them and gently pried them away from her, before those same ones slid up on her cheeks and tilted her head up. Clawdeen looked up to see Draculaura was the one holding her. The dark haired vampire’s face was stern.

“Now you listen to me, and you listen to me good, Clawdeen Lucia Wolf,” Laura said, speaking with a tone of reprimand that Clawdeen hadn’t heard directed towards her since she was a pup, “I never, _ever_ want to hear you say that again. Do you understand me? You are not a whore, and you never will be that. That is a disgusting, degrading word and I will not hear it used around anyone, especially you in regards to yourself.”

Clawdeen began, “But-”

Draculaura shook her head, “But nothing. It doesn’t matter how you acted around Aran in his company or what you did when we were teens or whatever nonsense your mind is telling you that somehow justifies this. This is _not_ your fault and you nor of the girls involved deserves what happened to you. Nobody deserves to be violated in body or spirit in such a manner, and I will not hear someone as beautiful or wonderful as you think of yourself in such a way. _Aran_ made you feel that way and it is not true.”

It was hard to look into her eyes, her normally soft lavender pools now hard in a manner that reminded Clawdeen exactly of Dracula. She tried to look away, but Draculaura only held her head in place.

“I...I...” Clawdeen stammered.

She couldn’t even find the words. The amount of sincerity in Laura’s eyes that came with her words was almost overwhelming. Clawdeen felt undeserving of it. After so long of being told that she was lesser, it was hard for to truly believe otherwise, especially when coming from that of her best friend.

She closed her eyes shut as another sob suddenly ripped free from her throat. Another cascade of tears escaped her, soaking Laura’s hands.

Draculaura’s eyes softened immediately. She pulled the werewolf against her and allowed Clawdeen to cry into her chest as she soothed her. She whispered little sayings of comfort into Clawdeen’s ear as she gently stroked her back and her hair; Clawdeen couldn’t help but smile as she heard some of them being spoken in Romanian, something that Laura used to do with her and Clawd when she babysat them when they were younger.

In time, she finally did manage to calm down. She pulled her head from Laura’s chest to give her a look of thankfulness. Draculaura smiled and just shook her head, silently telling her that there was no need.

The two monsters embraced each other again, silently vowing to keep this between them, as best friends always did.


	11. Chapter 10: A Day of Solace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Enjoy this wholesome Christmas chapter I wrote in the middle of August, lol.

“ _It’s Cryptmas! It’s Cryptmas, IT’S CRYPTMAS!”_

Clawdeen groaned and snuggled further into the sheets, not ready to be woken up yet. She definitely didn’t want to be woken up by what sounded like the twins screaming at the top of their lungs.

Unfortunately, she didn’t get her wish, as her ears twitched as she could hear Weredith right outside her door, the young pup sounding like she was pounding down the hallway as her voice became louder; her feet hit the floor hard enough that the picture frames on the walls rattled.

“ _IT’S CRYPTMAS!”_ Weredith screamed, “ _Everyone get up! It’s Cryptmas, it’s Cryptmas!”_

There was a harsh pounding against her and Howleen’s door as Weredith knocked hard against it. Clawdeen and Howleen both simultaneously let out their own groans, the harsh racket almost painful to their ears as they were dragged out of their peaceful sleep.

Howleen yawned and sat up on her bunk. She rubbed at her eyes to try and wake herself up more, before she stretched her arms over her head and gave a satisfied sigh as she felt her back pop. Throwing back the covers, she turned herself over so she was on her knees and began to descend the ladder.

As she climbed down, she looked over to see Clawdeen was still seemingly heavily asleep. At the sound of their little sister letting out another harsh yell alerting everyone in the hallway of what day it was, though, Howleen saw her brows furrowed in displeasure.

Smiling sympathetically, Howleen leaned over and grabbed her shoulder to give her a light shake.

“Come on, ‘Deen, get up,” she said in a low voice.

“Mmmmm,” was what she got as a response as Clawdeen tried to turn away from her, “Lemme sleep...”

“Sorry, sis, can’t do that,” Howleen said, shaking her a little bit harder, “Come on, we need to get up. If we’re not, they’re just going to keep yelling.”

She got another amusing whine of protest from her sister, but Clawdeen finally cracked her eyes open and sat up groggily. Her mouth was tugged down in a tight frown as she slowly blinked the sleep out of her eyes, and her hair was poofing out at the sides in a messy afro of bed-head. Howleen had to withhold a laugh; Clawdeen looked so amusingly disheveled and unlike herself. In the moment, she reminded Howleen more of an angry troll.

Clawdeen turned her head and looked at their door with a slightly tired glare as she heard the twins scream outside again.

“ _IT’S CRYPTMAS!”_ Weredith continued to shout; they were accompanied by loud booms as she ran from door to door and knocked on them, yelling at the rest of the family inside, “ _GET UP, GET UP! SANTA CLAWS HAS BEEN HERE!”_

“Ugh, I forgot how they’re like this time of year,” Clawdeen said as she wiped the drool from her mouth, “So loud...”

“Well, be thankful it’s only the two of them and not six,” Howleen said with a smile as she put on her slippers, “Remember how Barker and the rest of them were?”

Clawdeen grimaced with a nod, remembering a few years before how it was in their household at this time of year when the sextuplets were younger. They were so energetic and went back and forth down the hall so many times at once that it shook the whole house. Clawdeen remembered how she used to think that if anyone happened to walk by, they could probably feel the vibrations from all the way outside.

She suddenly paused as she came fully awake now and the reality of just what day it was settled on her.

It was Cryptmas.

Her first one with the rest of the family in almost six years.

It was almost surreal to think about.

Her and Howleen turned their attention back to the door as they heard another knock at it, this one a lot firmer. The door opened a second later to reveal Clawrk; his hair was all mused and his pajama pants and t-shirt were wrinkled.

“Are you two awake?” he asked in a bit of a groggy voice.

“Yes, Dad,” the girls answered.

He smiled and nodded, before moving into the room.

“Merry Cryptmas,” he said, pulling each of them in for a hug and giving them a kiss on the forehead.

Clawdeen smiled and hugged him tightly, “Merry Cryptmas, Daddy.”

“Go brush your teeth,” he said the both of them, “Clawd and Laura and all of them are on their way right now.”

They all looked into the hallway as they heard one of the boys let out a big “OW!” from one of their bedrooms.

“ _Wake up, wake up, Santa’s been here! It’s time to open presents!”_ they heard Packlynn exclaim.

“ _Ow, ow! Lynn, the hell?! Get off me!”_ Nino exclaimed in annoyance.

Clawrk looked back at the both of them with a slightly weary expression.

“You heard her,” he said, “Best get down before the both of them have to pull you out of bed themselves.”

Clawdeen and Howleen giggled. Clawdeen pulled back the blankets and got up from the bed to follow Howleen into their bathroom. They took turns using the toilet and brushing their teeth, and Clawdeen tried to comb some of her hair to make it more presentable; no need to meet the rest of the family with herself looking like she had a bird’s nest on her head.

They left their room just as Harriet and the sextuplets were going towards the stairs. Clawdeen smirked at the way Barker and them walked like a couple of zombies, their heads thrown back and their mouths open and their eyes fluttering like they were about to fall back asleep standing up at any minute.

“Good morning, girls,” Harriet greeted them with a yawn, pulling them both in for a hug, “Happy Howlidays.”

The girls greeted her back, before Clawdeen looked over at the clock. It was only a little ways past six-thirty.

“Come on, come on!” they heard Weredith exclaim. She appeared in the doorway of the triplets’ room, pulling Rocks and Howie by their hands as they slowly shuffled behind her, the two of them looking like they were barely even awake. Don appeared behind them a second later, putting his glasses on.

“Come on!” Weredith said, looking up at the three she-wolves, “Come on! It’s time to open presents! Santa’s been here!”

She dashed off towards the stairs before any of them made a response and went racing down them like she was in a hurry. The strength of her feet hitting the steps could be felt by all of them under the carpet.

Clawdeen sighed, “I forgot how energetic they can be at this age.”

“It’s not so bad this year,” Rocks commented, giving a big yawn as he stretched his arms over his head, “Hell, this is considered a bit later. I remember one year, they didn’t even wait until it was six to wake everyone up.”

Harriet joked, “You all used to do the same thing when you were a little. I remember one year, before Clawd was born, that Bruno and Fenrix didn’t even wait until it was morning; they tried to wake us up right after midnight, when your dad and I were still in the middle of putting gifts out.”

“Oh, they would’ve been scarred for sure,” Howleen laughed, tucking some hair- now dyed aqua blue and white- behind her hair.

“Which is exactly why afterward, your dad and me set the firm rule that _nobody_ gets up until it’s at least five,” Harriet said, “The last thing we need is someone’s Christmas to be ruined out of excitement.”

They all shared a small laugh at that, before they turned and followed her down the stairs. Clawrk was in the kitchen, turning the coffee on, while Nino, the sextuplets, and the twins were already settled in the living room on the sofas.

“Whoa, look at all them!” Packlynn exclaimed. Her and Weredith stood looking up at the tree in the corner, cooing over the mountain of gifts that rested in and around it.

Weredith pointed to one that sat by the TV. “Look at how big that one is! I wonder who it’s for!”

“Don’t touch any of them yet,” Clawrk called, “We have to wait until everyone gets here.”

Clawdeen rubbed her eyes and made her way into the living room. She found an empty seat at the end of the couch and quickly claimed it. She grabbed the blanket that rested on the back and pulled it around herself, snuggling into it. It was white and printed with cute paw prints and dogs in Santa hats.

She looked at the tree with amazement. There had to be more than fifty gifts spilling out of the tree, all of them decoratively wrapped or placed in Holiday themed gift bags and hidden with stuffing paper. Most of the wrapping paper was Cryptmas themed, but she spotted some that were brightly holographic or bright pastel rainbows (also known as once again, her parents ran out of paper and had to borrow some from other occasions like birthdays, because in the Wolf house, it was basically law that no matter how much wrapping paper you bought, it was _never_ going to be enough).

Her eyes drifted up to the tree. It was the same fake one they’d used every year since she could remember- some of the branches were badly bent in some places and some of the fake needles had long since fallen off, but her parents had said it was reusable and provided less mess and, in Clawrk’s words, “There’s no damn way I’m spending eighty dollars on something that’s going to be dead in three days every single year.”

As her eyes wandered over the tree, Clawdeen felt something stir within herself. It occurred to her that it had been a long time since she had seen a Cryptmas tree up close. Up in DC, the next best thing were the small ones that people put up in their shop windows, but that was it.

It was just like she remembered it being every year. The plastic yellow star at the top was the same one they’d been using ever since she was a baby, and it still glowed just as bright as it did back then. The white and gold tinsel Clawdeen had helped to wrap around the tree glittered as the lights flashed different colors in a rhythm. Her eyes browsed the ornaments that her and her siblings had helped to put up with their mom, and she recognized every one from her childhood. At the top near the star were all the ornaments that marked her and her siblings’ first Christmas as well as the one that marked Clawrk and Harriet’s first as a couple; Clawdeen’s was that of a pink baby bottle with a Christmas tree and little toys inside, with her name and the year around the cap.

There were the crafted ornaments she had made in pre-school, like the reindeer made from twigs and a toilet paper roll, or the hand-painted ones her and Howleen had worked on when they were kids. There were ornaments for her nieces and nephews and ones that Draculaura had given to them as gifts over time. Clawdeen smiled as she saw some of the weird ones they’d collected over the years as somewhat of a family tradition, like the one of Santa riding Godzilla or the sexy merman with a rainbow tail and hairy chest who was holding a big martini glass.

They’d fought their mom tooth and nail over getting to hang that one up, Clawdeen remembered. Harriet had finally relented in time with a sigh and a roll of her eyes, though she gave them a warning of _If any of the pups ask,_ _ **you’re**_ _going to be the ones to explain it to them._ That had been a fun day.

It made her feel safe, the sight of the tree. It made her feel warm and relaxed; it was like a bit of an anchor. Something that reminded her that she was here, safe, with the people she loved.

She felt something press against her arm and looked to see Barker leaning against her. He looked up at her with big green eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Clawdeen smiled and nodded, “Yeah. Just looking at the tree.”

Barker glanced at it for a moment, before he turned back to her. He gave her a smile, before he leaned in and wrapped his arms around her, getting her in a big hug from the side.

“I’m glad you’re here to see it,” he said, “I’m glad you can celebrate with us now.”

Clawdeen’s eyes widened, touched by her little brother’s comment. She shifted her grip on the blanket and hugged him back. He’d gotten so big- now, he came almost to her shoulders- and she could feel the leanness of his muscles coming in. All his baby fat was gone now.

“I’m glad I’m here too,” she said, snuggling him.

Crescent patted over to them and rubbed against her foot, before she plopped down onto her stomach, already ready to check out. Clawdeen smirked and rubbed her foot against her silky coat.

The doorbell rang. Harriet went to the front door, and a second later, Clawdeen could hear a variety of people entering.

“We come baring gifts!” she heard her brother Fenrix exclaim, “As well as several grandchildren for everyone to spoil!”

“Fantastic!” Harriet called.

There was a series of barks. Clawdeen looked down as she heard something small thundering on the floor, before a dark shape suddenly appeared on the carpet in the living room. Her eyes widened and she gasped.

“Roxy!” Packlynn greeted, momentarily distracted from her and Weredith’s ogling of all the gifts under the tree, “Roxy, come here!”

Rockseena barked and jumped up on her hind legs in excitement, her tail wagging wildly from side to side. She didn’t look much different from how Clawdeen remembered her, other than she seemed a little bit fatter. Her wings flapped wildly about her.

She watched as Rockseena sniffed, before the gargoyle dog’s bright pink eyes rolled over to her. Rockseena perked up and gave a happy bark, before she rushed over to the auburn haired wolf.

“Hey, girl,” Clawdeen greeted with a smile, patting her head and scratching her big chin with her claws, “Hi, baby. I know, I’m happy to see you, too. Hello.”

Clawd came into the room, wearing a pair of flannel pajama pants and a Christmas sweater as he carried some gifts bags in his hands. He smiled as he saw Clawdeen and Rockseena.

“We didn’t want to leave her or Count Fabulous all alone, especially today,” he said as he placed the bags down in front of the tree, “Plus, I thought you’d want to see her again.”

“I did,” Clawdeen said, continuing to pet Rockseena as the stone bulldog put her front paws up on the couch cushion and licked at her hand wildly in affection. Crescent looked up with a displeased expression, before she rested her head back down.

Clawd came over to her and gave her and Barker a hug.

“Merry Cryptmas,” he greeted, pulling back with a smile.

“Merry Cryptmas,” Clawdeen said back; she looked down at his sweater and raised a brow in amusement, “That’s quite a piece you’re wearing.”

Clawd grinned and tugged at the hem of his sweater. It was dark green and had a giant plush reindeer head Velcro-ed to the front of it like a hunter’s mount. It was framed by a wreath and little red ball ornaments hung off it antlers.

“Thanks. I found it at the thrift store for, like, a dollar or something,” he said.

Laura, who was also dressed in an sweater- in just her style, it was bright pink and decorated with snowflakes and white reindeer- gave her a hug as well, before the two of them went to sit down on the floor by the tree.

The rest of the family came by and made themselves comfortable in the room. Bruno and his wife sat by the edge of the couch where Clawdeen was, while Fenrix and the rest of them sat on the floor in front. Clawdeen’s nieces and nephews formed a circle with Weredith and Packlynn around the tree, where they were closest to all the gifts.

“Okay, is everyone ready to get started?” Clawrk as he made his way to the front of the tree and knelt down beside the presents.

“Yeah!” all the pups yelled out in excitement. Everyone giggled in response.

“Good,” Clawrk said, “Then how we start off with stockings first?”

Harriet helped him as they both reached up and started distributing out the stockings that hung above the fireplace to everyone. Clawdeen got hers and peaked in. It was filled with candy canes and chocolates, as well as a few other goodies.

“Oh, wow, a toothbrush,” she heard Howleen say sarcastically as she pulled out a package, “Just want I wanted. How did you know?”

“They probably knew from your breath,” Nino joked. Clawd and the boys laughed as Howleen leaned over and tried to kick him in the head, though Nino lunged forward and managed to miss it.

Clawdeen found a small wrapped box and pulled it out. It said it was from “Santa Claws”.

“What’d you get, Deenie?” Hairrison asked, nodding at the small container.

Clawdeen tore at the wrapping paper, revealing the box to be a container of perfume. She held it up so him and Barker could see. Hairrison smiled and nodded.

“Cool,” He said, “That’s the scent you like, right?”

“It...yeah, it is,” Clawdeen said.

She paused as she looked over the bottle. It wasn’t just a scent she liked; it was the scent Midnight Tides, from Hextoria’s Secret. Her favorite scent. She had had a bottle just like this one in high school.

Clawdeen looked up at her parents, surprised. She’d been wanting a refill for a long time, since her last bottle had expired at the beginning of junior year. She’d been busy saving up for other things, though, so at the time, she hadn’t had the money to buy another one.

How had they known?

“That’s everyone,” Clawrk said, rubbing his hands together as he knelt back beside the tree, “Shall we get started handing out presents now?”

“Yeah!”

“Yeaaaah,” Rocks and the boys also exclaimed in a bit smaller voices, pretending that they were among the pups.

Clawrk turned to the presents and looked over them. “Fine. Let’s see,” he said, seeemingly searching over all the other dozens of gifts, “How about we give the first one to...Clawdeen?”

Clawdeen perked up. Clawrk had grabbed one present from under the tree and was holding it out to her. It was a large box shape and wrapped in bright blue paper decorated with snowmen, complete with a bit white bow on top. On the sticker label, in bright red marker, it read _To: Clawdeen, From: Mom & Dad. _

She looked around. Everyone else was looking in her direction, awaiting to her unwrap it. All the pups were looking at her with big eyes, eagerly wanting to see what she had gotten.

“Um, okay,” Clawdeen said as she took the package from her dad. She set it in her lap and untied the bow, before she began to gently rip at the wrapping paper.

She uncovered a shoe box. Tilting her head, Clawdeen pulled open the lid and pulled aside the tissue paper that lined the inside. Her eyes widened in shock.

Inside were a pair of gold wedge sneakers from Slashybox. They had little zips up the sides in addition to the long silk ribbons that served as their laces.

They were the same shoes that Clawdeen had been wanting her junior year. The same exact shoes that she’d been wanting for her birthday that year.

This model must’ve been a few years old by now. And her parents had bought her the exact same kind, brand new.

“We remembered you told us once how you wanted a pair from this company,” Harriet said, holding her mug to her chest, “But we couldn’t find any in that color in the stores.”

“We managed to find some on Screambay,” Clawrk said, a proud smile on his face. He gestured to the shoes, “I hope they fit.”

Clawdeen gaped at the two of them, her mouth hanging open in shock.

They had found exactly the pair she’d been wanting, and in her favorite color. They...they had still remembered, after all these years, that she had said something about wanting a pair of these shoes.

She was so flabbergasted by the realization, that she didn’t say anything for a moment. She then realized how she looked and blinked.

“T-T-Thank you,” she said.

“You’re welcome, honey,” Clawrk said. He turned back to the presents and gathered a few in his arms, “Okay, next is: Nino, then one for Howleen...”

The next hour was spent with everyone passing around gifts and unwrapping them, while they gave their thanks to whoever had bought them (except for the ones, of course, that had said to have been from Santa) and put their trash in the black garbage bags Harriet had bought out. Slowly, the carpet that lined the bottom of the tree slowly became visible again as the gifts that lay underneath were passed out and opened.

“Holy shit, Clawdeen! The _Knights of Lunar_ box set? With the art book?!” Rocks exclaimed as he admired the set of books in his hands. His eyes sparkled as he looked up at his sister, “You shouldn’t have! This must’ve cost a fortune!”

“It was no big deal,” Clawdeen said with a smile, “They actually had it on sale at the bookstore.”

It made her feel good to see the childish way Rocks’ whole expression lit up as he looked over the books that he’d said he wanted on his Cryptmas list. She felt the same way as Howleen squealed as she unwrapped the fake-bullet studded belt that Clawdeen had gotten for her at Haunt Topic, or when Clawd and Laura opened the vintage-style blender that her dad had helped her buy at Bed, Bat, and Beyond.

She stole a look over at all the presents she had received so far. She had formed a little pile next to her, all of it organized so it would be easier carrying it all upstairs after all the gifts had been given away. So far, it was pretty obvious that she had seemed to have gotten the most presents this year.

It made her feel a bit sheepish. Since she had little money, aside from her last check that she had picked up from Equina and the small bit of cash from her past allowances she’d kept saved up in her sock drawer, she had only been able to get all her family just one gift for each of them.

Though that wasn’t necessarily bad- their parents tended to be the only ones to give multiple gifts at once, since obviously they had the most money to spend- it seemed like everyone had gone out of their way to give her, in particularly, at least three or four gifts per person. It made Clawdeen feel a little bad; some of the gifts seemed super expensive. Before, she probably would’ve lavished in all the extra affection, but now it just made her feel spoiled. Like everyone else was settling for a few and they all felt the need to indulge her, when she couldn’t do the same for them; most of her gifts had been bought on sale or she’d found second hand.

What was more surprising her, though, was just how specific they were to her taste.

Everything was exactly the kind she liked or close to it. Clothes from all her favorite brands, in all her favorite colors. Her favorite scents of perfume. Her favorite candy and nail polish. Makeup brands she’d been wanting and in all of it her preferred shade ranges or color stories. Her favorite style of shoes, favorite jewelry, everything. They even bought her a brand new sewing machine and an entire new set of threads and buttons for her to use.

It was...so weird, seeing just how exactly to her liking they managed to get her things.

When she was younger, Clawdeen had always felt like she’d tended to have her interests ignored or brushed off by the rest of her family. Like her aspirations just tended to be written off as just “pretty, girly stuff” and her accomplishments underminded simply because she was a girl or because she was younger. She remembered how she used to get frustrated at this image of helplessness her brothers used to project onto her as they insisted they needed to ‘protect’ her from bullies, even though she always managed to hold her own, or help her with big projects like putting things together, although she knew her way around a toolkit and had helped their dad on his own projects more than once.

_It’s like you all think I’m just useless,_ Clawdeen remembered ranting to her mom one night after the two of them had had an argument; whatever about, she couldn’t recall,  _You just think I’m this weak little she-wolf who needs to be rescued and constantly be held from the ‘big bad’ men of the world, but I’m not a little ghoul. I play all kinds of sports, I buy almost everything I need with my own money, I get good grades, I...I work hard! Why can’t you guys acknowledge that?_

Those were the days where she was at her wit’s end, particularly. When she felt like she was going to burst into tears out of sheer anger at constantly, some way or another, being put down as this kind of helpless ghoul who couldn’t do anything for her own, despite all her self-reliance and her studiousness. It made her feel invisible, like nothing she did could make anyone actually _see_ her and all the things she could do.

Now, though, as she looked all her gifts, Clawdeen realized that they had seen a lot more of her than she thought. They’d had paid attention to her likes and her interets, they had noticed her hobbies.

They _had_ cared.

She reached out and ran her hand along one of her new clothes. It was a lime green tiger wrap dress made of velvet. Clawdeen gently caressed the sleeve with her thumb.

For a moment, she felt like she was going to cry. She managed to keep it all in, however.

“And, final gift,” she heard her dad say, “Is for...Mom! From the kids!”

Harriet smiled as she took the package from him. She ripped it open and gasped as she saw it was a new purse.

“Oooh! Is this dragon leather?” Harriet asked, feeling the smooth black material with her hands. She grasped the fob that was attached to the zipper, “And from Jessicaw Simpsong! Ooh, you all shouldn’t have!”

“But you asked for it,” Weredith said, “Didn’t you want one?”

Everyone just gasped at her childish confusion. Clawrk dipped under the tree to make sure that was everything, before he stood up and clasped his hands together.

“Well, then, everyone, that’s it!” he exclaimed, “I hope everyone’s having a good morning and got everything that they asked for. Merry Cryptmas!”

“Merry Cryptmas!” Clawdeen and everyone replied back.

“If you all just want to take some time to organize your stuff, I’ll be making sausage and pancakes for breakfast,” Harriet said, standing up, “I just want to put everything upstairs first, so there’s room to move around.”

“Can we make hot chocolate?” Packlynn asked.

“Sure!” Clawrk asked, getting up with his wife, “If anyone wants to come help, we’d appreciate it.”

Everyone started getting up after that; they gathered their things in their arms and started for either the foyer or the stairs to put their stuff away. Clawdeen got up with them; she brushed all the stray pieces of paper and tape away from her lap, before she knelt down beside her gifts and started stacking some of the boxes up based on size.

As she folded some of the clothes she had gotten into a few of the gift bags, Draculaura strolled up to her. She leaned over the werewolf and put her hands on her shoulders.

“How are you doing?” she asked, “You looked a little bit shaken just now.”

Clawdeen looked over her shoulder at her and smiled. She reached up and placed her hand over Laura’s.

“I’m fine,” she said, “I’m really fine. I’m just really feeling the howliday spirit, is all.”

And she was.

For the first in what had to be years, when she said she was fine, she actually meant it.

* * *

Today was a Cryptmas that Clawdeen knew she wouldn’t forget any time soon.

It was cheesy and pathetic, but today, she fully welcomed the howliday spirit with all her heart and joy and reveled in it as she celebrated with her family.

After they had unwrapped presents, she gathered with them in the kitchen, where they all helped themselves to their traditional howliday breakfast of pancakes, sausage, bacon, eggs, and waffles. Clawdeen groaned as she cut up a piece of her pancakes and took a bite, savoring in the fluffiness. They were blueberry, her favorite, and she had drizzled them in plenty of whipped cream and maple syrup.

“Good?” Clawd asked in amusement as he took in the heavenly look on her face.

“Mmmhmmm,” Clawdeen nodded, withholding a giggle as she chewed.

“There’s plenty more where that came from,” Harriet replied as she took a sip of her coffee, “Help yourself to more, if you’re hungry.”

And Clawdeen did. She had three helpings, actually. By the time breakfast was done and the dishes put in the sink, she felt like she was about to burst. _I probably look like I could be Santa by this point,_ she thought to herself humorlessly as she rubbed her belly, which felt full and stuffed.

Her dad and her oldest brothers and her sisters-in-law settled in the living room with her nieces and nephews to watch Cryptmas movies, Clawdia and Clawd helped their mom clean the kitchen and start bringing stuff out so they could prepare for dinner. Clawdeen watched a few with them as she ate candy from her stocking. Pawla and Howleen joined her on the couch, all three of them huddled under the blanket.

“Did they remake _National Lamboo_?” she asked as they finished watching _A Cryptmas Scarerol_ and a new one came on TV, “I don’t remember these actors being on it.”

“They did,” Howleen answered, “It sucks, so don’t watch it.”

Clawdeen snorted, “Duly noted.”

She watched _A Cryptmas Legend_ and _Dark Cryptmas_ with them; she laughed at all the funny parts and surprised herself by managing to recite all the words that she remembered from the most iconic scenes.

“Remember when we were younger and we tried to replicate the scene with the BB gun?” Howie asked from where he was laying on the floor. A small pile of buttercup wrappers lay by his elbow.

“Oh, yeah,” Clawdeen chuckled, “And we only ended up blasting the glass out the screen door?”

Her sister-in-law, Chandra, gave her a look of horror. “Oh, no!” she said, “How did that go over?”

Clawdeen shrugged, “I mean, it could’ve been worse. Nobody got hurt by the broken glass, luckily, but we did get in a lot of trouble. Lest to say, Dad whooped our asses pretty good.”

“They tried to clean it up by just dumping all of it into their mom’s flower box,” Clawrk said from his recliner, “And then they tried to hide it by wrapping saran wrap all over the door. I swear to Skoll, I could’ve skinned all of them when I saw the damage.”

He shook his head, like he still couldn’t believe they thought their little trick would work. Clawdeen and Howie chuckled in remembrance at the whole chaos of the incident.

After another movie, she finally excused herself and headed upstairs to take a shower. She decided to use the body wash set that Rocks and Don had gotten for her, and sighed in contentment as the relaxing smells of vanilla bean and freshly baked cookies filled her nostrils.

She felt an almost foreign sense of peace come over her. The warm water was doing wonders for her body as it relaxed her tight muscles. The comforting scents of her new shampoo and body wash made her feel further at home. She felt well rested and relaxed.

She couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed as hard, or as much, as she had today. Clawdeen smiled in comfort as she washed her hair as a small thought came to her.

Maybe this was a sign things were indeed starting to look up. Maybe it would be a Cryptmas miracle and her life was truly starting to get back on track.

Or maybe it was just the calm before the storm and this was the last sense of tranquility she ever had before the trial threw her life further into absolute chaos.

Clawdeen paused. Her gaze dropped to the floor as she stood there under the spray, a sudden sense of foreboding overcame her at the thought of the trial. It was already stressful, with what Archie and Dracula had relayed to them. The defense was completely relentless and was fighting Archie and his coworkers at every chance they could get.

She thought of Aran. How was he spending today? She thought in wonder. She remembered Archie saying none of them had gotten bail, so that meant he’d still be in jail. She wonder if he’d get to visit with his family, if any of them wanted to go visit him, or if he was kept away from any privileges.

Clawdeen wondered if that was one more thing he’d told against her.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she shook her head. _Don’t think of him,_ she told herself, _Not today. Today is YOUR day, to spend with your family. Today, he’s not your problem._

She took a few deep breaths like Jennifur had instructed her to calm herself. Once her heart rate slowed, Clawdeen opened her eyes back up and resumed washing herself.

That was right. It was Cryptmas. The day for good cheer and to be merry. She wouldn’t allow Aran or any stupid memory of back then to ruin it for her.

After she got out, Clawdeen changed into some of the new clothes she had gotten- a purple pair of leggings that had spikes going down the sides and a leopard print sweater that had a snarling leopard’s face printed on the front. She put in some ornament earrings her mom had gotten for her and a jingle bell necklace, before she brushed hair and put on some makeup and headed downstairs.

As she made the last step, she heard the front door open again. She looked to see another group of werewolves entering the house; she recognized them as Romulus’s family.

“Hi!” Harriet greeted as she hugged his mom and dad, “Come in! Feel free to make yourselves at home, Clawrk and I are just getting ready to cook.”

“Oooh, can’t wait to see what you have in mind,” Rom’s dad, Frostulus, smiled, “I made some pumpkin roll, if that’s okay.”

“For sure,” Harriet said, “You know the kids will be living over wanting all the dessert for tonight.”

She led the family into the living room, where the rest of the family got up to greet them. Clawdeen hugged Rhea and Frostulus as they passed her by and said hi to the rest of their kids, before she turned. Romulus was waiting by the stairs, looking down at her with a smile.

“Hey!” He greeted, “You look great!”

Clawdeen smiled, “Thanks.”

She looked down to see he was wearing a dark blue ugly Cryptmas sweater. The pattern was of various runes, while in the middle was a picture of three goddesses in different colored gowns- one red, one green, and one purple. There was a saying at the bottom near the hem that was in Latin.

Clawdeen immediately recognized the goddesses and made a face as she looked back up at Romulus.

“ _Blood Meadows?”_ she asked, pulling at his sweater for emphasis, “Seriously?”

“What?” Romulus asked, “It’s a sweater! And it was only, like, ten bucks at Target! Come on, you know that’s a steal.”

Clawdeen rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “You’re such a nerd,” she commented.

“You say it like it’s a bad thing,” Romulus said, grinning.

He reached back into the pocket of his jeans and pulled something out to hold out to her. Clawdeen looked down at it, surprised to see it was a small red box that was patterned with snowflakes and tied with a thin white ribbon.

“I figured I’d give this to you now, before all the conversation got going and it’d create a big scene,” Romulus said, rubbing his neck as she took it, “Merry Cryptmas.”

Clawdeen untied the ribbon and pulled it away so she could lift the box. Her mouth fell open in surprise as she saw what lay inside.

Within, resting on a little silk pillow, was a gold plated Wonder Woman necklace, the logo of which was inlaid with tiny clear crystals. Clawdeen raised a hand and gently ran her fingertips over the pendant in disbelief; the light threw prisms on her skin from the crystals.

Romulus smiled at her reaction. “I saw it in the comic book store and thought of you,” he said, “I remembered you had that whole ‘Wonder Wolf’ costume you did with Wydowna in high school, so I thought it’d be a cute homage to that. You like it?”

Clawdeen glanced up at him, still amazed by the beauty of the necklace. She looked back down at it and said, “It...it’s beautiful!”

Something suddenly occurred to her, however, and she blushed deeply. She looked back at Romulus with a sheepish expression.

“I...I don’t have a gift for you, though,” she admitted, “I...didn’t know your family was coming over.”

Romulus didn’t seem to take any offense to it. He just waved her off, “Aw, don’t worry about it. Isn’t that what gift giving is all about, anyway? You give because you want to, not because you expect anything in return?”

“I guess,” Clawdeen said. She then brightened up and gave him a small smile, “Thank you, Romulus, I..I really do like it.”

“Great!” Romulus said with a grin.

A thought came to Clawdeen. She glanced back down at the necklace for a moment, before she turned her gaze back to the silver wolf. Romulus blinked as she suddenly held the box back out to him.

“Will you actually help me put it on?” Clawdeen asked, using her other hand to gather her hair up and drape it over one shoulder, “I want to wear it.”

“R-Really?” Romulus asked in surprise, “Sure!”

He seemed surprised at her request, but quickly brightened up. Clawdeen withheld a giggle at the almost-schoolboyish grin on his face as he took the box from her and allowed her to turn around. She heard him pull the necklace out of the box and undo the clasp.

There was a flash of yellow as the necklace was thrown over her head, before she felt the slight coolness of the chain as either end was pulled together up on the back of her neck. Romulus’s claws and fingers lightly brushed her skin as he clasped one of the loops on the right chain.

The sensation caused a strange tingle to run down Clawdeen’s spine. She let out a small shiver as she felt the warm puff of his breath on her neck; she hoped he didn’t notice.

“There,” Romulus said, stepping back, “You like it?”

Clawdeen looked down, lightly touching the pendant from where it now rested just under the collar of her sweater, admiring how the gold and small crystals glittered in the light. She went into the bathroom near the foyer and turned on the light, observing how the necklace looked in her reflection.

Romulus stood near the doorway, awaiting her reaction. To his delight, as she admired herself, he could see Clawdeen’s lips spreading out in another smile. Her eyes sparkled, the same color as the gold of the necklace. She turned to him.

“Thank you again,” she said, “I really do love it, Romulus.”

“I’m glad,” Romulus said, putting his hands in his pockets as he smiled at her appreciatively.

Clawdeen turned off the bathroom lights and headed in the kitchen; Romulus followed after her. Clawd and Laura were already in there, helping prepare ingredients as Clawrk sharpened his knives and Harriet pulled on her apron. Clawd lifted his head at the sight of Romulus and nodded.

“Hey,” he greeted, pulling the silver wolf in for a brotherly hug, “How’ve you been?”

“Fine,” Romulus greeted back, “Did my mom give you your present.”

“Yeah. Thanks man, I needed one,” Clawd said, gesturing to the brand new watch he sported on its wrist.

“And I loved the perfume!” Laura said in agreement, “How did you know I liked Hexstee Slaughter?”

Romulus chuckled, “I mean, it was pink, it smelled fruity, and the packaging had a bat charm. Didn’t take much thought of who’d like it once I saw it.”

Clawdeen and Clawd laughed with him at that; Laura gave a shrug that just read, _Aw, you got me there._

As she opened her eyes up, Laura’s eyes dropped to Clawdeen’s chest. Her eyes widened as she saw the double W pendant that now rested against the she-wolf’s sweater. She looked up at Clawdeen with silent questioning, before her gaze shot to Romulus.

Clawdeen raised her brows as she saw a giant smile begin to creep onto the vampire’s face. Laura didn’t elaborate on this, however, as she just came forward and squeezed Clawdeen’s hand.

“That’s a pretty necklace,” she said, “It suits you.”

“Really?” Clawdeen asked, one eyebrow still raised.

Laura smirked, “Yeah. Cuz you are a ‘wonder woman’ after all.

“Or, should I say,” Laura said, “A ‘wonder wolf.’”

That got her a smirk from the she-wolf. The four of them then departed so there would be room for the small vampire and the three wolves to work as they got to work on dinner. Clawdeen and Romulus headed into the living room, where they talked with each other’s families and waited for the feast to begin.

* * *

“Okay, everyone!” Harriet called out from the kitchen a few hours later, “The last few dishes are coming out, so grab your drinks and get your stuff ready!”

Clawdeen turned away from where she was conversing with Romulus’s older sister and followed everyone as they stood up from their seats and headed into the dining room. Clawrk and Clawd were currently shuffling back and forth from the kitchen as they brought out dishes and plates filled with various foods.

Clawdeen licked her lips as she took in all the rich scents and the sight of all the howliday meals that filled the table. The carved turkey sat in the middle, looking heavenly under the lamp light, its precious meat bright pink as it was cooked are. Stuffing sat next to it, steaming in its glass bowl. Mashed potatoes, gravy, fresh baked rolls, sliced ham, gooey mac and cheese, fresh rabbit that was taken straight from the forest, bottles of sparkling cider and wine; her stomach rumbled like a beast in a cave that had just come out of hibernation.

She looked up as she felt a tap on her arm. Romulus pointed towards the fridge.

“You want me to get you anything?” he asked.

“I’ll be fine with this,” Clawdeen said, gesturing to the cup of sparkling grape juice she was holding. Romulus smirked at it.

“Okay, but don’t get too crazy now,” he joked, “We don’t need you coming down with a sugar rush.”

“Oh, trust me, I know my limit,” Clawdeen said, engaging in his banter, jokingly toasting to his glass of wine.

They both turned back to the table as the final dishes were laid out and the plates and silverware were put at their appropriate settings. Everyone turned their attention to the center of the room at the tinkling of a glass; Harriet stood in the center of the room, wearing her best burgundy dress with some lace stockings and heels. She held a wine glass in the air, which she tapped on with a spoon.

“I just want to say, before we all get our plates and dig in,” she began, “That I hope that everyone is having a great howliday so far and that I’m very glad that everyone here could make it and join us in this time. You know, days like this, we always tend to take for granted, but from the bottom of my heart I appreciate that everyone took the time to come and have a good time.”

The families put out words of agreement and thanks and raised their cups and glasses in toast. Harriet raised hers as well, before she looked out at everyone.

“Does anyone else want to say a few words?” she asked.

They all looked at each other; most of them shook their heads. Clawdeen paused and took a minute to think.

She raised her head and held up her hand.

“Um...I….I would to say something,” she said.

All eyes suddenly turned to her. She held her cup in front of her self-consciously and shifted on her feet. They all listened with interest, waiting for her to speak.

Clawdeen swallowed and took a deep breath, trying to figure out how to put the words out. Finally, she raised her head and regarded them.

“Today is...it’s my first Cryptmas back with...with the family,” she began, “The first one in...a while, that I get to spend with everyone here.”

She shrugged, “Well, if you _want_ to be more frank, it’s really...really the first time I get to _celebrate_ at all. A-All these years I’ve…gone, I-I didn’t get to celebrate any of the Howlidays.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a few of her brothers wince at the mention. Clawdia and Rom’s sisters shifted on their feet while his younger brothers looked off to the side, all of them clearly uncomfortable with this sudden change in conversation. Clawdeen felt slightly bad for the definite mood killer, but she felt like she needed to get this out.

“Where I...where I was,” she continued, looking down for a brief moment to fiddle with her cup, “I felt like...like I was alone.

“Which is why, being back here and seeing all of you, a-a-and being to spend time with you all again,” Clawdeen fought against the lump in her throat; her voice became thick and before she could even help herself, she felt tears swim in her eyes.

“I-It really has let me know j-j-just how much all care a-and how much _love_ there is here, and I, I don’t think I’ve experienced any of that f-f-for such a long time,” she rambled on, “A-And I just want to say that I-I love being able to be here right now a-and feel that once again.”

She quickly dropped her gaze to the floor and wiped at her eyes. Her face suddenly felt hot with a bit of self-consciousness.

“S-Sorry to bring down the mood so quickly,” she said, “T-That was cheesy of me...”

Instead of the awkward silence that she thought was going to follow, however, she heard Clawd speak up from across the room.

“Here, here,” he said proudly, raising his glass of wine.

Romulus’s mom, Rhea, smiled as she raised her glass. “Beautiful words,” she said.

“That’s what this day is all about,” Frostulus agreed as he raised his own glass.

Clawdeen smiled shyly. Still in the middle, Harriet regarded her with a proud look, before she turned to everyone and lifted her glass again.

“To us,” she said, “To our pack and our family.”

Everyone raised their glasses. Clawdeen did as well, her smile a lot more confident.

She felt reassured at their words; the warmth in her chest she’d been feeling all day returned, reminding her that she was safe here; she was with people she loved and trusted and who would protect her, who knew her for her and who cared deeply about her and her interests and her dreams.

For the time being, nobody could take that away from her. Not today.

“To the pack,” she and everyone repeated as they toasted the air.

They all turned to each other respectively and clinked their cups and glasses, before taking a sip.

“Now,” Harriet said with a big smile, gesturing to the table, “Let’s all dig in.”


	12. Chapter 11: That's What Friends Are For

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: In Chapter 2, Draculaura originally states that her and Clawd are to married that January. That has since been edited to state that they're getting married in the winter of the next year. I realized how close the timeline was coming to that and rather than cram everything in in a short period, I thought it'd be more practical to just adjust that.

A few days after Cryptmas, Clawdeen sat up in her room, watching TV as she painted her toes. She wasn’t really paying attention to the program, admittedly, and she spared only quick glances as it as she focused more on applying the nail polish, but she kept it on as background noise.

Dipping the applicator back into the bottle, she leaned forward and slowly began to apply a fresh coat of iridescent violet onto her left large toe. She had each of her toes separated by an applicator, and tried her best to keep it on the nail itself and not get any onto her skin. As she went through all her toes, she screwed the applicator back on and fanned at her toes to get them to dry quicker.

“ _It’s free! Real estate!”_ some guy on the television exclaimed excitedly as the commercial break aired, “ _We’re giving you land! We’re giving you a house! It’s real estate, free!”_

Clawdeen flicked her eyes up at the screen real quick to see it was some sort of housing commercial, before she looked back down at her feet. She noticed something on the side of her foot and turned both them inward, making a face when she saw how calloused and cracked her soles were. She really needed to get a pedicure.

On TV, the real estate commercial ended and another one came up. This one displayed a werewolf woman waiting alone at a train station after dark. She was looking around like she was afraid of something, and was rubbing her arms as if it was freezing cold out. Clawdeen shifted, slightly uncomfortable; there was something familiar in this scene to her that hit a little too close to home.

The woman pulled out her phone and was looking at it. Her ears lowered as she seemed to have no messages and she put it back in, before she glanced around again.

As she turned to the right, a werewolf man suddenly came in frame. The wolf woman’s eyes lit up and she smiled brightly, before she ran to him. The wolfman wrapped her up in a tight hug. There was a bouquet of flowers in his hands. As they cuddled, it began to snow.

“ _Sonic Travels,”_ the TV announced as the logo for a train company took over the screen, “ _Because nobody should have to be alone for the howlidays.”_

Clawdeen raised her head at that. She watched as the commercial ended while she started applying a top coat to her nails.

“Alone for the howlidays...” she remarked to herself.

It was a simple, general statement. Just a random comment on a random commercial that had really no appeal to her, especially since her and the family were all staying home for the upcoming boo year.

Yet, for some reason, as she heard the sentence again, her thoughts randomly jumped to Aran.

Clawdeen frowned. _Don’t do that,_ she scolded herself, _He has nothing to do with this._

Yet, even as she said this, she couldn’t help but ponder him and the commercial statement together.

Had he been alone for the howlidays, she wondered?

Even though he would still be in jail, as per the trial was still going on, she wondered if he had at least some company to come see him for Cryptmas. Jails had to allow that, didn’t they? It seemed cruel to just not allow people to visit, especially when it was the howliday season. Clawdeen had no idea who would exactly come to see him- or want to, considering the news of his arrest had to have been spread around by now- but she figured his parents at least would maybe try to come see him, or a sibling, if he had one.

How would he even be doing, now, as he waited out his days in jail? Maybe he wasn’t allowed visitors. after all. Maybe he was currently in solitary confinement (did they have solitary confinement in jail?) because of something he did or because of his own safety; Clawdeen had watched plenty of prison documentaries to know that it was always a common train of thought that guys who preyed on kids and minors didn’t exactly have the warmest of welcomes from the rest of the inmates.

In spite of herself, the thought made her feel a bit bad for Aran. Yeah, he did a lot of fucked up stuff, but even so, it seemed cruel to keep someone locked away with little to no contact for every waking hour of the day, every day. Especially around this time of year.

There was a pang in her chest as at that thought. What if he hurt himself? Or it was starting to take a toll on him, mentally? No matter what type of person Aran was, he still was someone’s child, someone’s loved one. Clawdeen couldn’t fault him for that. Maybe his parents wanted him home and they couldn’t. It was so tragic, not get to spend one of the most family-oriented moments with your child.

To anyone else, it would’ve sounded ludicrous that _she_ of all people was feeling for the satyr, especially considering their situation, but Clawdeen, caught up in her thoughts, failed to realize the irony.

Did he ever think of her while he was in his cell, she wondered, or talking with his attorney?

If he did, he was probably imagining every way he could make her scream bloody murder for her role in why he was currently there. But Clawdeen wondered if maybe, just maybe, he had fond thoughts of her. If he actually felt bad for what he put her through; if he missed her just as much as she missed him-

Clawdeen’s entire body went as stiff as stone, like she had just fallen victim to a gorgon.

Her mouth fell open in horror as it dawned on her what she had just thought.

She...she missed him.

She _missed_ Aran.

Everything he did to her, everything he put her through...and Clawdeen missed him.

Another pang hit her chest. This time, though, it was one of disgust.

She missed him.

She missed the man who had raped her and hurt her, who could’ve very well killed her.

_No…oh, god, NO…_

Clawdeen’s breath hitched. The sound that escaped her was like that of someone coming up for air who’d been submerged under water for years.

Tears flooded her ears. Clawdeen’s hands flew to her mouth.

A harsh sob escaped her. “No..." she whimpered, "No, no, no, no, no..." 

What the hell was wrong with her? She  _missed_ her rapist? She wished he was thinking of her in a kind way? She was  _worried_ about him?  Every day she feared for her unlife over him possibly going free, and yet there was a part of her that wanted to see him again. 

Her mouth went dry. Her stomach lurched like she wanted to vomit. 

Within seconds, Clawdeen found herself hyperventilating once more; her sobs came out airy and whistle-y, like she was a balloon with a hole in it. A thick fog started to form in her head as she started to get dizzy from lack of proper oxygen intake. Her body started to shake and tremble. It suddenly felt as if everything was closing in on her. 

As the dark haze started to take over all train of thought, one last piece of rationale came to Clawdeen's mind.  _Call Jen,_ a voice in her head said urgently,  _Call Jen NOW! That's what she told you, wasn't it? To call her if_ _you got into this thinking and needed a calm down? CALL HER._

Through the curtain of tears that was blurring her vision and the light-headedness that was starting to make her feel faint, Clawdeen twisted violently on her bed as she tried to look for her phone. She spotted it by her pillow and dove to grab it. 

Her fingers were shaking so badly that it took several attempts for her to dial in the passcode and get to the app that held her contact. She almost dropped the phone as she managed to pull up the number that was listed with Jennifur's name and pressed it to call. Her breathing was still heavy and ragged as she held the phone to her ear. 

There was a couple of rings, before she finally heard the werecat's voice.  _"Hello?"_

"J-J-Jennifur," Clawdeen sputtered out. 

" _Clawdeen, is that you?"_ Jennifur replied, immediately on high alert as she heard the panic in the werewolf's voice, " _What's wrong? Did something happen?"_

"I-I-I-I..." Clawdeen panted out, struggling to form the answer. Her throat was starting to grow all tight and close up; her chest started to grow tight with pain. 

Jennifur spoke up, " _Clawdeen, listen to my voice. Stay on the line with me._ _Breathe in, okay? Take a deep breath."_

Clawdeen tried. She must've sounded like someone having an asthma attack as she wheezed and sucked in as much air as she could; she tried to hold it in, only for it all to come blowing out as she was overtaken by another sob. 

She started pacing back and forth in the room manically, her thoughts scrambled. She couldn't think straight. 

“I-I-I miss him,” she finally managed to sputter out. A hand flew to her face to cover in her eye in shame as she whimpered, “I _miss_ him.”

“ _Miss who, Clawdeen?”_ Jennifur asked.

“Aran,” she answered, “I-I miss him! I-I-I was thinking about him a-a-and I was wondering how he was doing and I-I started to feel _bad_ for h-him being there, a-a-and I was wondering if he was thinking about me, a-a-and I realized I miss him! I _miss_ him, Jen! O-Oh god, I’m so fucked up...”

Her heart was pounding in her chest like it was about to burst. Her hand went back to her mouth to stifle her blubbers. What if her family heard? Then she’d have to tell them why she was panicking again? Then they would know just how much sicker and twisted she was than they already thought. Clawdeen felt her shoulders bounce up and down from the force of her cries.

“ _Clawdeen,”_ Jennifur called out to her urgently, “ _Clawdeen, listen to me, okay? Where are you right now?”_

Clawdeen hiccuped, “I-I-I-I-In my r-r-room...”

“ _Are you alone?_ _Are you having any thoughts of bringing harm to yourself?”_

“N-No...” she replied, “N-No, I-I don’t want to hurt myself...”

Jennifur’s voice was stern and calm as she said, “ _Okay. Do you think you can go down to your family,_ _so they can help you calm down?”_

The reaction she got from the she-wolf was immediate. Clawdeen snapped, “NO! N-N-No! No, t-t-they can’t know about this.

“They can’t...” she panted, “T-They can’t know that I-I-I’m feeling like this...”

“ _Okay, okay, then listen to me carefully,”_ Jennifur said, “ _Take another deep breath. Try to hold it in. Hold it in.”_

It was a struggle, but Clawdeen took another deep gulp of air. She pursed her lips together, struggling to not let another wail make it all come out.

“ _Count to ten,”_ Jennifur said gently, “ _One...two...three...four..five...Let it out.”_

Clawdeen gasped and deflated as she released.

“ _Take another one,”_ Jennifur repeated, “ _Hold it in, count to five...and release.”_

Closing her eyes, Clawdeen did as she instructed. This time, she was able to breathe out a little bit slower than initially. As Jennifur led her on for a third time, she took another deep breath. They continued this for the next few minutes, Jennifur guiding her in breathing as slowly, Clawdeen managed to pull herself back from the panic attack.

“ _Four...five. Let it out,”_ Jennifur said a few minutes later.

Clawdeen did. With this, the last feeling of suffocation and darkness that had her wrapped up in its iron grip just minutes ago, finally went away. She sniffed and wiped at her nose with her sleeve; her eyes were all swollen, her cheeks were tacky with tear tracks, and her nose was dripping with snot. She sat on the edge of her bed.

“ _There,”_ Jennifur said, “ _It’s all right. It’s only you and me. He’s not here, he has no power over you.”_

Clawdeen sniffled and wiped at her eyes. “W-W-What am I going do to?” she asked, “What’s w-wrong with me? Why do I feel like t-t-this? Why do I feel like this a-about _him_ , even after everything he did?”

She hung her head in shame, even if she was the only one in the room right now. Her mouth twisted up in an expression like she was about to start crying again. “It’s s-so fucked up. I-I’m...I’m _horrible...”_

“ _Oh, Clawdeen. No, you’re not,”_ Jennifur assured her, “ _You’re not alone in what you’re feeling right now. In fact, there are many women who have the same way about their abusers.”_

“R-R-Really?” Clawdeen asked.

“ _Yes. It’s_ _something that happens to many people once they finally leave their abuser,”_ Jennifur explained, “ _Tell me, what are you thinking of right now? What triggered this longing before?”_

Clawdeen thought about it. She swallowed against the lump in her throat as she remembered how she was contemplating what Aran was doing right now. It made her feel disgusted with herself. She must’ve really been crazy- what kind of person misses the guy who’s burned them, raped them, or beat them?

“I...There was a commerical, o-on TV,” she replied, “A-About being home for the howlidays. And it...it got me to thinking about h-how, how Aran’s doing in jail, w-with the trial going on. I was...”

Her face burned. She mumbled, “I was thinking about if...if by any chance, he was thinking good thoughts about me. That m-maybe he was, or i-if there was a chance he was sorry for what he did...”

Her voice grew thick, “I thought that maybe he thought good things about me. T-That somehow, there’s still a chance he actually _cared...”_

She bit her lip as she felt another sob building up in her mouth. She shut it before she could break down again.

“ _It’s okay, Clawdeen. You have nothing to be ashamed of,”_ Jennifur said soothingly, “ _You can’t help how you feel. Even if you don’t lik_ _e it, we’re not always in control of the thoughts we have.”_

Clawdeen pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arm around them protectively.

“W-Why is this happening to me?” she asked again, “Why do I still think about _him,_ o-or worry about him, even when he treated me like that? Why do I care so much when he, he couldn’t have given a rat’s ass about me?”

The TV was still playing. It had turned back to the house hunting program that Clawdeen was mindlessly watching, the current story displaying some bright-eyed blonde vampire family whose bright smiles and nasally high-pitched way of talking practically screamed ditziness. Clawdeen grabbed the remote and pointed it at the screen to turn it off. It wouldn’t help her mood in the least.

“ _For five years, he was a dominating presence in your life,”_ Jennifur said gently, “ _He forced his way into your life and through his manipulation and abuse, he altered your perception of reality so that he could make it seem like you needed him. He saw to it that he was regarded as the sole person you could rely on._ _That there was nowhere for you to go._

“ _It’s part of the cycle of violence,”_ she elaborated, “ _It’s another form of control. He put you in helpless situations and used to the abuse to perpetuate this narrative that you weren’t strong enough to live without him. To make yourself doubt your intelligence; and, that way, he was actually helping you. That in his own twisted way, he_ _ **was**_ _good for you. He made you think that he was doing you a favor, because he ‘cared’ enough to look after you since you were supposedly too ‘weak’ or ‘stupid’ to help yourself. Does that make sense?”_

Clawdeen nodded, before she realized they were still on call. She answered, “Y-Yeah. I...I guess that makes sense...”

“ _It’s common for survivors to miss their abusers, even if they consciously know they were toxic and horrible people,”_ Jennifur said in further comfort, “ _When you are isolated enough,_ _and_ _they seem to be the only person to fill up that emptiness and that loneliness_ _, it’s only natural that you may start to see them in a different light. It’s not your fault, Clawdeen. It’s another effect of his manipulation.”_

“Oh...o-okay,” Clawdeen said.

It made sense, what Jen was saying, but that did little to lessen the feeling of self-loathing that was settling deep in the werewolf’s stomach. It was still fucked up to realize that she missed Aran.

And it wasn’t just missing him. As she forced herself to confront the fact, now that it was out there, she realized she missed him a _lot_ ; it made her heart ache at the thought of him, like she was some sort of lovesick housewife patiently awaiting for her dearest traveling soldier to return from war. She missed his smile, his eyes, the soft way he would speak to her when he was happy with her.

The way he _touched_ her, when he was pleased with her. Clawdeen felt her stomach clench almost painfully. She wanted to puke her guts out. It made her feel like such a slut, to know she missed the way he caressed her, in spite of them being nothing but a facade.

“ _It will be okay,”_ Jennifur spoke up, noting her silence, “ _You’re not lesser or a horrible person for having these feelings. All of these, consciously and subconsciously, have been your mind’s means to deal with what has happened. No matter how you felt, Clawdeen, you still don’t deserve what happened. Understand?”_

“Y-Yeah…” Clawdeen said half-heartedly. She sighed as her gaze dropped to her lap. She picked at a loose thread in her jeans.

She looked towards the door as she heard the front door open downstairs. A draft came from under the door a second later; she could smell Clawd and Draculaura’s scents in the air. Through the floor, she could hear the kids’ muffled shouts of excitement as they greeted their older brother.

Clawdeen looked at the clock on her nightstand. It was almost five. They were coming over for a little get-together with the family- their was going to make some steaks in the oven while their mom made pasta salad and vegetables. They were all going to sit around the table and have some drinks before dinner. Just a little evening for the whole family to enjoy each other’s presence, before the hectic milling around and last-minute shopping that came with the onset of Boo Year’s took over the household. 

It was supposed to be a peaceful, jovial evening. The last thing anyone needed was for her to bring down the mood. 

“ _Clawdeen? Are you still there?”_ Jennifur stated. 

“Yeah,” Clawdeen said, “I...I have to go.” 

“ _Are you sure? You don’t want to talk about it a little bit longer?”_

“N-No,” Clawdeen said, “I just...I want to relax. I don’t want to think about him. Not today.” 

She thought that Jennifur would insist on staying on the phone, but the werecat just replied, “ _Okay, I understand. Would you feel comfortable talking about it at our next session, though? So we can work through it a bit more in depth?”_

Clawdeen answered, “Yeah, sure.” 

“ _Okay, then,”_ Jennifur confirmed, “ _I’m glad you called me, Clawdeen. If ever you experience these bouts of feelings again outside our sessions, or you just need someone to talk to, don’t hesitate to call me again.”_

“I won’t,” Clawdeen said, “T-Thank you.” 

She could hear the small chuckle from Jennifur as she replied, “ _No need to thank me._ _Take care of yourself, okay? Take a nap, go for a jog,_ _just be sure it’s safe and legal, okay?”_

That got a smile from Clawdeen. She wiggled her toes. Amazingly, despite her practically making a groove in the floor from her pacing, none of the polish had smeared. Her toenails shimmered dark violet in the light. 

“Okay,” she said in a small voice. 

“ _Okay,”_ Jennifur repeated, “ _Have a good evening, Clawdeen. Again, please don’t ever hesitate to call me if something else comes up.”_

“I won’t,” Clawdeen assured her, “Bye.” 

“ _Goodbye, dear.”_

Clawdeen pulled the phone away and  pressed ‘End.’ She tossed it onto her pillow, and then took another deep breath. 

She rubbed at her face with her hands, dragging them down her cheeks before she let them drop to her lap; she stared  out at the opposite side of the room, her eyes roaming blankly over the clothes in her closet. Her shoulders drooped as she sighed. 

_ Another day, another moment where Clawdeen has a fucking crisis and feels like the world is about to end yet again,  _ she thought cynically. 

Just how many times would she have to go through this? 

A dark, defeated part of her believed it wound never end. She would never find peace of mind. She’d never be whole. Aran had stolen a piece of her and there would be a void left in her forever. 

She suddenly felt tired. Clawdeen reached up and rubbed the bridge of her nose. For a second, she considered doing what Jennifur recommended and taking a nap. Sleep for her was always so fleeting. 

Right then, though, she heard Howleen coming up the stairs. 

“ _Deen!”_ she heard her call out, before the door swung open and her younger sister leaned in, “Hey, Clawd and Laura are here. And Dad’s making cocktails and wants to know- hey, you okay?” 

She straightened up.  Her brows furrowed as she caught sight of the look in her older sister’s eyes. Clawdeen’s eyes were red and puffy like she’d been crying. Her instincts immediately went on high alert. 

“Yeah,” Clawdeen answered, not looking up at her as she pushed herself off the bed and made her way to the bathroom, “Tell Dad I said no.” 

Howleen raised a brow, not convinced in the slightest; it was evident something was wrong in the way that Clawdeen  seemed to be purposefully avoiding her gaze, like there was something in her face she didn’t want Howleen to see. It was even more obvious in the rigid way she walked, or how she wouldn’t even turn her head in Howleen’s direction. 

There was a part of her that wanted to push Clawdeen,  to urge her to open up and tell Howleen what was really going on. It hurt her, to see how closed up her sister got now, with everything that happened. Clawdeen  always had a tendency to hold things in that bothered her (sometimes, her independence was such a pain in the ass that way), but now it was like she just completely shut down. 

It was if she was scared of them seeing just what lay beneath once they peeled back those layers. It made Howleen hurt f or her sister; to think that Clawdeen believed that they would ever judge her or hold it against her for whatever she was feeling, especially with everything she went through.

Yet, she knew she couldn’t press her. None of them could force Clawdeen to let them in. So, instead, as she watched the auburn-haired wolf step into the bathroom and grab for the door, Howleen just took the time to say one thing. 

“Hey, Clawdeen...you know you can talk to me whenever, right?” she said, “I-If ever you need to just vent, or have someone to listen to, I’m here for you. You know that...right?” 

She saw Clawdeen pause and lift her head. Her back was to her, preventing Howleen from seeing her reaction.  Finally, she turned to look over her shoulder and smile. It didn’t reach her eyes. 

“I know, Leena,” Clawdeen said. Without another word, she turned and closed the bathroom door, separating the sisters. 

Howleen stared at it for a minute. Her shoulders dropped as she frowned with disappointment.  Alas, she knew there was nothing she could do. 

She gave a short, curt nod despite the door being closed, and said an “Okay, then” before she turned and left the room, leaving Clawdeen to her business.

* * *

She wasn’t okay. It was clear as day on her face. 

She tried to cover it up with some makeup, but Clawd didn’t miss the redness or the fragile, slightly faraway look in her eyes that was still present as she came down to join them. He looked at Clawdeen out of the corner of his eye, watching silently as she accepted a glass of soda from their dad and lightly joked around with Rocks, with the two of them clinking their glasses together in a mock toast. 

Though she giggled and smiled at the jokes and the remarks thrown her way, her smile quickly disappeared afterward. Or, something would flicker in her eyes and it would slowly drop from her face, like Clawdeen had thought of something that quickly put an end to her good mood. 

Clawd didn’t know what had occurred that caused her to be feeling this way, or why she had definitely been crying just right before she came downstairs- no amount of eyeliner or concealer could hide the definite  swelling that had been present around her eyes that could only be caused by her constantly rubbing at them as she cried, but one thing was apparent to him: Clawdeen was in desperate need of a distraction. 

Breaking his gaze on his sister, he turned his attention to the other end of the table, where Laura was sitting with Harriet; his mom was currently laughing at something Laura had said, with her eyes squeezed shut and a hand raised at her mouth like she was in disbelief. 

Her eyes met Clawd’s. They exchanged a silent look, before Laura’s trailed to Clawdeen. Clawd could see she had picked up on the same signs he had. When she turned her gaze back to him, there was  a silent message in them that only Clawd understood. 

He nodded in confirmation, before he turned back to Clawdeen. He reached over and tapped her arm. Clawdeen turned to him, a small, inquisitive smile on her face. Clawd put on his own smile and leaned  forward. 

“You should come back with us later tonight,” he suddenly suggested, “That way, we can show you our apartment.” 

It was a sudden offer, and understandably, Clawdeen’s eyes widened in surprise at it. 

“What?” she questioned, blinking, “T-Tonight?” 

“Yeah, why not?” Clawd said, “You’re the only one who hasn’t gotten a chance to see it yet, and it’s been a few months. We can go there, hang out for a bit, and we even have a spare room for you to sleep in, if you want to stay over.” 

Clawdeen made a face, “I don’t know. I mean, it seems so sudden…” 

She looked around unsure, as if she thought she needed everyone else’s input. They all looked at her with interest at the proposal. 

“You should go with them,” Harriet said, “It might do you well to get out of the house more. Maybe a change of scenery for the night will help you.” 

“Yeah,” Clawd agreed. He wasn’t about to accept any objections; one way or another, he was going to convince Clawdeen to come home with them tonight, “And besides, when’s the last time you, me and Laura got to hang out with it just being the three of us?” 

Clawdeen raised one of her brows and gave him a look. She replied dryly, “I mean, you and me or me and Laura, sure, but I distinctly remember voicing something at one point or another at being a third wheel to these little ‘dates’. And considering you two are now  _ living  _ together...” 

“Hey, it didn’t _have_ to be three of us,” Laura spoke up in defense, “But you always got mad at me when I tried to invite a fourth person over to make it even!” 

Clawdeen whirled around in her seat to give the vampire a small glare. “That’s because you were always trying to set them up as a date for me! Even when I  _ told  _ you not to!” 

“I was trying to make it fun, as a double date!” Laura shot back, “That way it would feel less awkward! That way you _wouldn’t_ feel like a third wheel!” 

Howleen and everyone else grinned at the way that Clawdeen rolled her eyes and let out a small groan; Clawd smirked. He remembered very well the old arguments his then-ghoulfriend and sister would get into about Laura’s insistence on finding Clawdeen a boyfriend, which often ended with Clawdeen- time and time again, and often to little  effect- going on long winded rants in copious details about how she knew Laura meant well, but (in her words) “holy fucking goddamn” was it annoying just how much she stuck her nose in something that really wasn’t her business. 

“Fine,” Clawdeen snapped, turning back to Clawd, “I’ll go with you. But this better _not_ turn out to be some sort of blind date, where you have some random guy waiting in your kitchen ready to give me roses or do some creepy shit in the name of ‘romance’ to try and sweep me off my feet.” 

“Like I would ever even let someone like that step foot on the welcome mat,” Clawd responded back, “I mean it, Deen. We just want to show you around. Promise.” 

Clawdeen looked at him with her brows slightly furrowed. Clawd met her gaze wholeheartedly to show there was no double meaning behind his words at all.  Their eyes were matching gilded pools. 

Finally, Clawdeen let her guard down and shrugged. “Okay.” 

“Great,” Clawd said, nodding with a smile, “And don’t worry, we won’t get too crazy. We just want to catch up with you.” 

I t seemed like Clawdeen wanted to say more,  as she gave him the side-eye, but right as she seemed to about to respond, Clawrk pulled the pan out of the oven and set it on the kitchen island on  the heating pad. 

“Food’s ready,” he stated, “Everyone get your plates.” 

Clawdeen closed her mouth and looked over her shoulder. She quickly became distracted as everyone started getting up from their seats and heading to the kitchen. As she stood up, Clawd followed after her. He withheld a sigh of relief as him and Laura shuffled beside her to grab their food. 

As they sat down, Clawd looked over at his fiance with a silent grin. Laura looked up at him and returned it. 

_ Phase one of the plan: Complete,  _ the large werewolf seemed to say with his eyes. 

_ Next step,  _ Laura silently said back,  _ Phase Two: End this night on a good note. Beginning: Now.  _

* * *

( _A few hours later…)_

“So, how long have you guys been living together?” Clawdeen asked, resting her cheek on her palm as she leaned against the window. 

The evening had since come to a close, and the three of them were now on their way to Clawd and Draculaura’s apartment, just like  the former had requested of Clawdeen earlier. It was late at night; in fact, it was only about an hour so or before midnight. As such, the highway ahead of them was empty for the most part, save for a few stray cars like theirs and some semi-trucks that were headed for late night construction. On either side of them, neon signs that stated it was closing time for various restaurants and shops glowed in the darkness; they made little streaks in Clawdeen’s vision as the car passed by them at high speed. 

Laura looked at her  through the mirror in the sun visor. She spared a look at Clawd. “Oh, a year, two years now? It actually hasn’t been that long.” 

“Two years in the summer,” Clawd confirmed, “We had actually wanted to find an apartment earlier, but since I was out of state for school, it just wasn’t convenient. Once I got my job at the clinic, though, it was easier to find a place where we could meet halfway.” 

“It’s a super nice complex,” Laura told Clawdeen excitedly, “The machines are all new, everything was refurnished. And it’s _so_ much cheaper than my place in Portland was.” 

Clawdeen nodded, “I heard something about the  rent getting higher.” 

“It’s awful,” Clawd shook his head, “Literally Laura’s _one-_ bedroom was almost two thousand dollars. It’s almost as bad as Seattle.” 

They lapsed into silence after that. Clawdeen leaned her head against the window and was content to watch as they passed by various plazas and towns that she vaguely remembered going to with the ghouls to hang out once or twice. Clawd turned on the radio and allowed the throwback R&B station to fill the small space of the car. 

As he got off the exit, Clawdeen saw that there was an intersection at the end of it. Leading off to one end was a gas station, while at the other turn  she could see a small illuminated sign sticking out near a patch of grass on the sidewalk that said  _Skinwalker Suites_ . Through the patch of trees that were now nothing more than black silhouettes at this time of night, she spotted a tall six-story building, the large sliding glass door windows of which all had balconies on them. Obviously these ones had to be Clawd and Laura’s complex. 

Clawd pulled up to the stop sign, allowing for them to get a closer look. Clawdeen could see some of the tenants moving about in the apartments where they hadn’t put their blinds down. In one such apartment, to her amusement, she could see the TV lit up bright blue and displaying what she was pretty sure was  FortFright. 

To her confusion, however, Clawd didn’t turn in the direction of the apartment complex. Instead, he made a left, where the gas station was. 

“Wait, Clawd, where are you going?” she asked, turning to face forward as she sat up. She pointed out the window, “Isn’t that where you live?” 

“It is,” Clawd said, keeping his eyes on the road, “We’re just going to stop for a second to get a few things.” 

The atmosphere of the gas station was eerily quiet as he pulled the car into the parking space that lay on the end, right near the ice machines. Save for a werecat who was pumping gas into her dark purple Honda and a sasquatch who was texting as he sat in the bed of his beaten up and very dirty pickup truck, it was almost completely empty. 

Clawdeen sat in the backseat, confused as she glanced in between her brother and her best friend as Clawd pulled the parking break and turned off the engine. As him and Laura undid their seatbelts, he looked at her in the rearview. 

“Come on,” he gestured to Clawdeen, “Get out. We’re going to get you a Raspberry-Cherry Freeze and however many boxes of Sour Skittles you want.” 

The brown she-wolf just stared at him, blinking in puzzlement at his words. Clawdeen then furrowed her brows and looked between them again, frowning. 

“Wait, what?” she asked, “What are you talking about? What are we doing here?” 

“We want to get you some treats,” Laura said, grabbing her purse from where it lay between her feet before she finally turned in her seat to look at the werewolf, “To help get your mind off wherever it was earlier.” 

“What are you-” 

“You were clearly upset when you came downstairs,” Clawd cut her off, “You seemed distracted. Like you couldn’t stop thinking about it.” 

Right away, he saw Clawdeen bristle in the mirror. Her face went pale in the fluorescent lighting within the gas station. Her hands clenched in the cushions of the seat and her eyes went wide like that of a deer in headlights. 

Clawd helped up his hands in a gesture of reassurance. “You don’t have to tell either of us if you don’t feel comfortable sharing,” he said, “We get it. But...it seemed pretty obvious that whatever it was, it’s bothering you a lot. 

“So we just thought we’d try to take you out. You know, try and help cheer you up, take your mind off it,” he continued. He looked down at his lap and shrugged. 

Laura’s eyes softened at Clawdeen’s unsure expression. She gave the werewolf a pleading expression. 

“Please, Deenie,” she said, “Let us do this one thing. Even if it’s small, we want to cheer you up.” 

Clawdeen gaped at the both of them, flabbergasted at what they were saying. 

The first thought that came to her was,  _Am I_ _**that** _ _obvious?_ As misplaced as it was at the moment, she felt a small flush of embarrassment. She had thought she had managed to hide whatever evidence of her earlier attack with cosmetics.  How she presented with her body language completely flew over her head. 

After that passed, though, she focused on their statements. They took her out here to try and make her feel better. They saw that she was still shaken by what happened, and even though they had no clue as to why, they wanted to try and distract her from it. There was dozens of other things they could’ve been doing right now, and yet they chose to go out of their way to take her out and get her her favorite snacks as a means of comforting her. 

As it sunk in, Clawdeen  felt sincerely touched at their concern. She hadn’t expected either of them to go this far for her, especially for something they were out of the loop of. 

“...Do you really mean that?” she asked after a second. 

Clawd turned in his seat to face her. He answered, “Of course we do. We love you, ‘Deen. We only want the best for you.” 

If only there were enough words to describe how that statement made her feel. Clawdeen smiled softly. 

“Thank you,” she said. 

“Of course,” Laura said, “Now, let’s head in! I’ve been craving a Hershriek’s Cookies n’ Scream bar for days!” 

Clawdeen smiled. She undid her seatbelt and finally, the three of them went into the gas station. 

The elderly looking elf at the counter gave them a small nod and a greeting as they entered. They were the only ones inside at the moment. Clawdeen spotted the slushie machine at the back and headed towards it. Her eyes scanned the flavors available: Cola, Blue Raspberry, Cherry, and  Pina Colada. 

“What size should I get?” she asked as her hand hovered over the cups. 

“It’s whatever you want,” Clawd said, reaching under her arm to grab a size Large, “Anything you want, we’ll get.” 

Clawdeen gave him another loo k. He just raised his brows at her, before he looked at the cups and reached under her arm to grab one in a size Large. Clawdeen turned back to the options. Making up her mind, she grabbed a Large as well and started to fill it. Just like Laura predicted, she went with the raspberry and cherry. 

She slowly sipped it as the three of them walked through the aisles, browsing at the candy. Laura had opted to go with a Big Gulp of grape soda and, like she had said, grabbed a Cookies n’ Scream bar. Clawdeen was reaching for the sour Skittles when a sharp stabbing pain suddenly exploded in her head. 

“Argh!” she exclaimed, squeezing her eyes shut as her palm slapped her forehead. 

Laura and Clawd immediately turned in alarm. “What? What is it?!” Laura asked worriedly. 

“Brainfreeze!” Clawdeen groaned out, making a face of displeasure at the pain that made her feel like someone was stabbing her brain with an icicle. 

Clawd chuckled, “You and Leena always loved to gulp these down before you knew it.” 

“Oh, fuck off,” he got as a response from his agitated sister. It only served to increase his amusement; even Laura was giggling as Clawdeen shifted from foot to foot, trying to will the brainfreeze away. 

They ended up picking out quite a few bags of candy and headed over to the  register. Clawd paid with cash, and after the clerk handed him his cash, he put their goodies in a paper bag for them. 

“You guys really didn’t have to do this,” Clawdeen insisted as they piled back into the car, “I mean, you’ve already spoiled me with taking me to the maul and everything you got for me for Cryptmas-” 

“And we’ll do it again,” Clawd said, “Chill out, ‘Deen. We want to do this. Besides, what’s a few dollars?” 

Clawdeen quieted, knowing there was no use in arguing.  Just like when they went to the maul, neither of them would swayed when it came to buying things for her. Still, she couldn’t prevent feeling the little niggle of guilt that  came at her. 

They had given her so many things and all gone above and beyond to try and keep her happy whenever she felt like the trauma was going to crush her beneath it like a giant boulder- even when she thought that she had managed to pretend otherwise. What could she possibly do to pay them back that would be enough? 

These thoughts quickly went away, however, as Clawd turned onto the road and headed near the apartments. She looked out the window and ogled at the height of the complex; it jutted into the air  and nearly blended in with the dark of the sky, had it not been for the light provided from the groundlights and the windows that weren’t shuttered. 

It certainly looked  _much_ better than the shitty, run-down shell that she and the other girls in DC were forced to stay in, so that was a definite plus. 

Laura pulled a white key-card from her purse and ran it over the black scanner near the door to let them all in. They rode the elevator to the fourth floor as they got out. Clawdeen looked back and forth at each of the rooms as they passed them in the hallway. 

“It looks like a hotel,” she commented as she looked down at the shag burgundy rug that had patterns of various colored blobs, “Like it started out as one and they renovated it into a permanent place of residence.” 

“Yeah, definitely an improvement,” Laura said, “My one in Portland had stains all over the walls and the heater was always broken, so the hallways would either be freezing cold or sweltering. And that one was three hundred dollars more than this. Can you believe that?” 

“Oh, yeah,” Clawdeen commented. 

She thought again to the hole-in-the-wall excuse for a room that Aran had kept her in when she wasn’t out working.  Javier, the landlord, besides  allowing the complex to be used as a front for not only hiding girls like her but also for storing homemade drug labs, was a money hungry bastard in general and allowed the rooms to just gradually fall apart over time, no matter what got damaged. Clawdeen remembered leaving to work the street several times and would overhear several of the tenants- the ones who weren’t there for dubious purposes- complaining about heating and water problems that Javier was simply too greedy to get fixed. 

Thinking about Javier didn’t do her any good, though, because once she thought about him, she was thinking about DC in general, and then she was back to thinking about Aran and the  fit she had had that morning. Her grip on her slushie cup tightened. 

“You look like you just tasted something sour,” Clawd said beside her, “Something wrong?” 

Clawdeen shook her head, pushing the memories out of her mind. She didn’t want to think about Aran right now. 

“It’s nothing,” she insisted, “Just thought of something unpleasant.” 

“Well, don’t do that,” Clawd said jokingly.

She gave him a look of exasperation. He just grinned back at her. 

Him and Laura led her down to the end of a hallway on the left, to a door that was marked 4-18. 

“Just a second,” Clawd said, shifting his drink to one hand as he pulled out his keys and undid the lock. After it clicked, he grabbed the handle and pushed the door open. 

“And _voila_ ,” he said, holding it open for them after he reached over to turn on the light. 

Clawdeen passed by under his arm into the apartment. She stepped into the kitchen area, her mouth falling open as she looked around in amazement. The granite kitchen counter stretched from two walls and formed an island off on the right. The refrigerator, microwave, and stove top were all polished chrome. The living room area had an air of warmth to it with its dark red furniture and the light fixture that was hanging down and currently set to dimness.  The sitting area was nice and big, with the flat screen TV set on a shelf against one wall and a variety of paintings and photographs against another. In the hallway, a flag of Romania was pinned with thumbtacks while  a stand with a vase that contained a bouquet of roses was set in the corner of the other side. 

Her eyes glanced down as she heard a grunt. In the living room, Rockseena was curled up in her doggy bed. She twitched and then raised her head at the three monsters, staring at them blearily through half lidded eyes. Her tail started wagging as she realized who they were. 

Clawdeen smiled and raised her hand. “Hi, girl.” 

Rockseena wagged her tail some more, before she set her head back down on her paws and closed her eyes. Within seconds, she was asleep again. Above her, Count Fabulous hung upside down on the branch of a cat-tree, his wings wrapped tightly around him like a burrito, fast asleep. 

“Wow,” Clawdeen said as she stepped further in, “How much you paying for this place?” 

“Sixteen hundred,” Laura said as she bent down to slip off her high heels, “Probably the best deal yet.” 

Clawdeen nodded, “I’ll say.” 

“Here, ‘Deen, let me get your coat,” Clawd suggested, holding his hand out. 

Clawdeen set her things on the counter and allowed him to pull her coat off her so he could hang it up in their closet. She used her heels to pull her shoes off and gently kicked them to rest beside the door, where him and Laura had already put theirs. 

“So, here’s the bathroom,” Clawd was narrating as he turned on the light and allowed her to see, “It’s the smallest room here, but that’s fine for the both of us.” 

“A glass-door shower?” Clawdeen said in bewilderment as she took it in, “Damn, they’re just giving you the all-star treatment by this point.” 

“Yep!” Laura said excitedly. 

They showed her around, including where their bedroom and the guest room was. The latter didn’t look so bad, Clawdeen thought. A decent sized bed with dark blue covers, a nightstand, and a bookshelf filled with various fiction and nonfiction paperbacks. 

“So,” Clawd said, standing back, “What do you think?” 

Clawdeen turned away from the room and looked at him and Laura. They were awaiting her response; Laura was smiling excitedly. 

“It’s nice,” Clawdeen said with a smile, “It’s real nice and homey, too, with all the décor.” 

“Well, you can thank Lala for that,” Clawd said, gesturing to the vampire on his right, “The first day we moved in, she was already surfing Ahmazon for furniture.” 

“Hey, I can’t help that I want to make sure our house is a home,” Laura said with a pout. 

They joked around for a little bit, before the three of them headed back to the kitchen, where they had left their drinks and their snacks. Gathering them up in their arms, they made their way to the living room, where they all sat down. 

Clawdeen took a seat on the loveseat that rested near one corner, while on the other side of the coffee table, Clawd and Laura resided on the futon. Clawd grabbed the remote. 

“Is there anything you want to watch?” he asked Clawdeen, gesturing to the television. 

Clawdeen shook her head, “Nah. Not really in the mood. Besides, I have no idea what’d be on at this hour.” 

She grabbed her Freeze from the  coffee table and leaned back to take a sip. For a few minutes, the quiet of the living room was filled by just the slurping of their straws and the rustling of their bags as they opened their candy and took some bites. 

“...Did Laura ever tell you of the time we saw a guy pull out a samurai sword on our way to the store?” Clawd randomly asked. 

At the mere mention, Laura suddenly sputtered and burst out laughing, bringing a hand to her mouth to keep her from spitting out the bits of chocolate in her mouth. Clawdeen’s hand paused from where it was in the middle of tossing some skittles into her mouth and gave him a look. 

“Wait, _what?”_ she asked incredulously.

Clawd just nodded, “Around here, it’s not so bad as it would be in the city, but you still occasionally get some homeless people and street-people come walking through, since the bus station is close by. Anyways, Laura and I had left one day to walk over to the grocery store to get stuff for dinner...” 

Clawdeen listened intently as he recalled the strange sight that him and Draculaura had come across while they were crossing the street. Beside him, Draculaura wore a big grin as she watched him, giggling in remembrance of the strange occurrence. 

“...So then, the two of them start fighting,” Clawd resumed, “And at first, I’m starting to think that maybe I’ll have to jump in. But then, one of the guys, he stumbles back to where his backpack and this shopping cart of all his things was, and he grabs something from the top. 

“Laura and I couldn’t tell what it was at first- I thought it was a bat, or a night stick- but then all of a sudden I hear this _SHIRK!_ sound- you know, the sound you hear when a sword is being unsheathed or a blade is being pulled out of its rack?” he added, starting to chuckle, “And then we see this gleaming of light, and the next thing we know, the guy has a whole fucking samurai sword in his hands!” 

He held his hands out in disbelief, his eyes wide at the memory. Clawdeen laughed, thinking of the absurdity of seeing some random monster standing on the street in broad daylight,  a traditional sword in his hands that he waved at the dude he was fighting like some sort of off stuntman bushido. 

“Holy shit,” she giggled. 

“Yeah!” Clawd exclaimed in agreement, “I thought I was imagining it at first, but then I looked at Laura, and she was wearing the same look in her eyes!” 

Laura picked up after him, “Luckily, he didn’t actually end up  _using_ it, but we both thought it was best if we took the  _long_ way to the store. That way, we wouldn’t run into that man again.” 

She took another bite of her candy bar and chewed it while she shook her head, like she still couldn’t believe that they had witnessed such an action occurring. Clawdeen grinned. 

“Damn,” she commented, “And this happened _here_?” 

Clawd sipped his Freeze before he said, “It’s not as bad as you think. Like I said, it really only happens occasionally. But when it does,  it makes for some... _interesting_ experiences.” 

_ Then be thankful you’re not in the actual city _ , Clawdeen thought to herself humorously. She thought back to the weird things she had seen when working the streets in DC; old women swinging their canes at each other  and fighting over cigarettes, drug addicts shouting to the heavens as they went through a bad acid trip, or street kids doing weird dances as they waited at the bus stop just to pass the time. It was definitely one of the few highlights of Clawdeen’s time there. 

Stirring the mix of her slushie with her straw, Clawdeen smiled and looked back up at the couple. 

“Well, I’d say keep on the lookout anyway,” she said, “It may not happen often, but you can never be too careful. Who knows, maybe once you two are married you can save up enough to get a house.” 

It was meant to be an off-handed comment, but once she said it, she raised her head as she saw something pass in both Laura and Clawd’s features. They shared a look with each other. Clawdeen lowered her straw and looked between them. 

“What? What did I say?” she asked. 

They wouldn’t answer at first. They kept staring at each other, like they were having a silent conversation. Finally, after a beat of silence, Laura was the one to break her gaze and turned back to the she-wolf. 

“Speaking of marriage...” she began, “That was actually something we wanted to talk with you about.” 

“...Oh...kay?” Clawdeen replied, confused at where this was going. 

She doubted that it was going to be something like them revealing they had actually broken their engagement off; otherwise that would make coming here and all them hanging out  _ extremely  _ awkward (not to mention, kind of shitty). A pregnancy, maybe? No, that couldn’t be it.

Draculaura began, “You know how I told you the wedding isn’t until next year?” 

Clawdeen nodded slowly. She regarded the vampire warily, unsure of the direction this conversation was headed. Part of her felt like she didn’t want to know. 

“Well, Clawd and I have been talking...” Laura explained, shooting a look at the male wolf, “And we were thinking, since you’re finally here, and there’s plenty of time between now and then, that, well...” 

She gave Clawd another look. He took over for her and turned to Clawdeen. There was a  small smile on his face. 

“We want you to be Laura’s maid of honor,” he concluded for her. 

They both turned to look at Clawdeen, awaiting her response. The brunette stared at the both of them, shocked by what she had heard. For a second, she seemed like she was frozen in place.

“You...y-you want me to be...” she repeated in a stammer, still reeling over what she’d just been told, “In...in the wedding?” 

“Of course!” Laura said, “Why not? I mean, you’re Clawd’s sister, you’re my best friend, the position was practically made for you!” 

Clawdeen furrowed her brows, “But...I mean, don’t you already have a maid of honor? That was the impression I got, at least...” 

She got a nod from Laura. “Originally, I had asked Elissabat,” the vampire explained, “But that was also because I didn’t know...we didn’t know you...you were going to come back...”

She blushed when she realized how it sounded. Clawd shifted beside her in discomfort as they fell into a momentary lapse of awkard silence. Clawdeen looked at the ground. 

Draculaura obviously hadn’t meant it that way, but it still stung. To think, her big brother and best friend were going to get married, and had things not worked out the way they had,  next year could’ve rolled around and everyone would’ve been content to go through with it without her. It was understandable- unlife went on after all- but it still hurt her greatly. 

Refusing to let herself dwell on it, though, Clawdeen frowned in thought and asked, “But now? Elissabat’s  _ not  _ still going to be it?” 

“I already asked her, and she was completely fine giving up her position,” Laura said, “She’ll still be one of the bridesmaids, but she was on board with the role going to you all the way.” 

She looked at Clawdeen hopefully, obviously believing the news was exciting. 

Under any other circumstance, Clawdeen would’ve thought it so. There was, in fact, a part of her that was still touched by the proposition. She could think of no greater honor (no pun intended) than getting to stand right next to the ghoul that had been her bestie for literally her entire unlife and watch as her and her brother came together as officially husband and wife. To be the one to give the opening speech as their pack and their friends celebrated their union, which would not only be them joining in marriage, but with Clawd as an alpha, Laura being officially indoctrinated as a member of the pack. 

The excitement was short-lived, however, as another thought wormed its way to the forefront of Clawdeen’s mind and teased at her. Her face fell, as did Laura and Clawd’s as they saw a flicker of sadness in the she-wolf’s eyes. 

“I...” Clawdeen finally responded, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Lala.” 

Laura blinked, obviously not expecting that answer. Her shoulders dropped and she questioned, “Why?! I-I thought you’d be happy about it!” 

“I would be- I _am_ ,” Clawdeen clarified, “Believe me, I do appreciate that you guys want to be part of the wedding party, but...” 

“But what?” Clawd asked, equally perplexed as Laura. 

“But...” Clawdeen sighed, “I...I wouldn’t want to distract everyone from you guys.” 

That made the both of them stare at her with puzzlement. Laura tilted her head, “How would you distract everyone? I mean, I know you  _ are  _ someone who always tries to light up the room, Deenie, but I would think that  even  _ I  _ could-” 

“No,” Clawdeen interrupted her, “Not like that. I mean...I wouldn’t want to distract everyone with...with my scars...or my tattoos...” 

She looked down at the floor, her head lowering to hide her face with them. They watched as she reached up and suddenly gripped her sleeve like her arm was hurting her. It was the same arm they’d seen the sloppy heart tattoo that had been marred into skin; one of the three that Aran had forced her to get to mark her as his own. Like she was a piece of property. 

Their hearts dropped when they realized the depth of what she was saying. Clawd felt his ears lower, his chest aching as he saw the shame and embarrassment in Clawdeen’s features. Laura looked at her as well, her eyes starting to grow shiny as she became devastated at the werewolf’s statement. 

Clawdeen thought people would gawk at her. She thought they would see the marks on her body and would look at her and judge her. She was actually  _ afraid  _ of what people would think of her. All because of something that she couldn’t help. It wasn’t her fault, but she thought that it wouldn’t matter. 

When people saw the poor tattoos, when they saw the scars on her arms and her chest, they would know. They would know and reach their own conclusions, based on the rumors that flew. And they would talk. About her.  About her situation and how she was doing. 

She could practically feel their eyes on her already. She’d  be walking up the aisle or giving a speech, and then they’d see the burn scars on her arms, or spot the tattoo on her arm or the one on her back, and then they would be reminded again of what she’d been through. 

They would immediately see just how ruined she had become. She’d never be able to escape them. 

All the fear was obvious on her face. She looked completely destroyed. Clawd and Laura regarded her sympathetically, both of them equally despaired at how small she looked at that moment. 

Suddenly, though, Clawd furrowed his brows and frowned. Slowly, he leaned across and reached across the table to gently grab Clawdeen’s chin. 

“Hey,” he said, grabbing her attention. 

Clawdeen looked up at him.  His gaze was stern. 

“Don’t let whatever they might think keep you from being there with us,” he said, “If they want to judge you one something they know _nothing_ about, fuck them. But we want you to be involved.” 

Laura nodded, “Yeah. I don’t care about what they might think. It’s not about them. It’s about us, and  _ we  _ want you to be the maid of honor.” 

Still, Clawdeen didn’t look convinced. Her eyes slid to the side, before they met his again. 

“But,” she said in a small voice, “But what if they...they see everything?” 

“If you’re so worried, we can find something to cover them up!” Laura said, “The dresses all have shawls, so you can wear that! We can put some makeup on them, even, if you’d want!” 

Her gaze turned more serious. “Of course, though,” she added, “You shouldn’t be ashamed of them. You can’t help that they’re there. And nobody has the right to judge you over that.” 

“Easier said than done when you don’t have how much you charged for fucking inked on your back,” Clawdeen muttered. 

Neither one of them seemed to take offense to it, though. Clawd let her chin go and sat back. 

“Either way,” he said, “We want you in the wedding. And frankly, Deen, we’re not going to take no for an answer.” 

Clawdeen shot him a look. He just raised his brow at her, quietly daring her to try and fight him on it. 

She opened her mouth to object, but as they looked at her, something dawned on her that made her lose the words. The sincerity in their eyes was almost startling to her. Clawdeen looked carefully at each of them, making sure she wasn’t just seeing things. 

“...You really mean it?” she asked, “You really want me as the maid of honor, even if...if I’m not quite...like I used to be?” 

“There’s no shame in the things you’ve been through,” Draculaura said softly. The self-doubt she was seeing in Clawdeen’s eyes made her want to cry, “It doesn’t change how much we love you and how much you mean to us. And I want you as the maid of honor. 

“No, I’m _demanding_ that you accept that you’re the maid of honor,” she said, a bit more firmly this time. She sat up straighter to give herself a bit of an air of authority. 

That Clawdeen to smile. She raised a brow of amusement. Even though Laura seemed to be trying to act haughty, the fact that she was still  super tiny for her old age only made it seem comical. 

“Trying to use our royal title to get our way, our we now, Miss Dracul?” Clawdeen asked in jest. 

“Maybe I am,” Laura said matter-of-factly, “No mater, I am saying you _will_ accept the maid of honor title, you _will_ get your own dress, and you _will_ have the time of your unlife because it will be our wedding and we’re going to have some of the most fun we’ve ever had!” 

She stood up and put her hands on her hips, before she huffed, “So there.” 

Any lingering self-doubt that Clawdeen may have been experiencing at that moment was lost as she burst out laughing. She leaned back against the couch and exclaimed, “Oh, god, now you’re starting to sound like Cleo!”

She fell into a fit of giggles, putting down her drink so she could hold her sides. Laura looked down at her with an angry frown, irked at not being taken seriously, but it was obvious she didn’t have a whole lot of heart in the act, as soon enough her and Clawd were also partaking in the laughter.

It was good to see a smile on her face, Clawd thought as he calmed down, watching as his sister continued to chuckle at Laura’s fake order. As they went on talking for the next few hours, before they all finally tucked in for the night, he noticed a big difference in Clawdeen’s behavior. She was noticeably more relaxed, more content. It seemed they finally managed to distract her from whatever had been agitating her earlier in the day.

Neither him nor Laura were expecting that Clawdeen was suddenly going to be a hundred percent okay again after this simple night, nor did he believe she was going to be sunshine and rainbows right away. But he hated seeing her distressed and hearing how little she believed in herself or her beauty.

Whatever it took, they were going to do what they could to make her smile, even if it was only for a short time. They were going to do whatever it took to get her to see herself for the amazing, creative person she was.

If it meant getting her junk food for a night or strolling around the maul while buying out every one of her favorite stores, he’d gladly do it, just for a chance to see her at peace once again.

Maybe one day, when this whole trial was all over, she could finally find it for good.


	13. Chapter 12: A Familiar Face

The woman at the front desk was taking much of her sweet time typing out names and looking up people, Clawdeen thought.

She felt a grimace tug at her lips as she looked impatiently at the clock that lay on the right wall of the waiting area. Already, it was almost twelve-thirty. Clawdeen withheld a growl and looked back at the front of the line. She drummed her fingers on her jacket sleeve impatiently. Behind her, she could hear the dragon girl who was after her start tapping her foot, clearly sharing in Clawdeen’s annoyance.

Already, she’d been here at the student services office for half an hour, and yet she wasn’t any closer to getting her appointment. There were still two other ghouls in front of her, not including the siren who was currently waiting for the front desk woman to tell her what she’d been asking.

It was supposed to be a simple scenario; at ten minutes before twelve, Harriet had dropped Clawdeen off New Salem Community College so the latter could obtain a new student ID and the paperwork they’d need so she could file for disability services when she started school again in the week after this one. Since Clawdeen’s prolonged absence from Monster High legally considered her a dropout, she would have to renew her ID at the college since this second enrollment technically counted as second chance education.

As for the paperwork, Mr. D had recommended she use the accommodations that would be offered for disabled students, both for Monster High and the community college, in case her anxiety impaired her ability to take tests or pay attention.

Clawdeen had objected to it at first. With a frown, she had asked, “Wouldn’t that be cheating? I mean, everyone gets stressed over a test now and then. I doubt it’s that bad-”

“Clawdeen, you have diagnosed PTSD,” Mr. D had pointed out, “That’s hardly just a little stress. Mental health disorders count under the Disability Act.

“Don’t feel ashamed if you find you do need it,” he had said, “You wouldn’t be the first and I doubt you’ll be the last. There’s nothing wrong with needing a little help now and again.”

He was right, but a small part of her was still too prideful to admit that she needed help; when you spent so many years building up your independence and relying on only yourself, it was a hard habit to break of just figuring everything out on your own without anyone’s assistance.

So that was that, and hence why Clawdeen was here now at Student Services, so she could tell the lady about her appointment and she could be signed in and directed to where exactly she was supposed to go in the back. The trouble was, so were the five other people in front of her that were already waiting in line when she got there.

_Of course there’s a line. There’s also a damn line when you need it the least,_ Clawdeen thought with exasperation. 

It didn’t help that the secretary was moving  _sooooo_ slow. Clawdeen could see the way her fingers went up and down on the keyboard, like she could only type in one key at a time, or how she was obnoxiously cracking her gum in a way that was grating to the werewolf’s ears. She gazed at the computer like she was bored. 

Finally, she turned away and looked at the siren and told her where to find the printer, and the blue-haired ghoul left. Clawdeen let out a low sigh as the line finally moved forward  again . A bespectacled dryad approached the desk. After the periwinkle-skinned ghoul in front of her went, it would be Clawdeen’s turn. 

Trying to distract herself from the time, Clawdeen looked around the waiting area. A few feet away, students were shuffling in and out of the double doors that opened to the hallways of the lecture halls and classrooms. The automatic doors that led to the front entrance of the building were glass, allowing her to see the edges of the flower boxes that stood on either side of them and the end of the student parking lot. 

Clawdeen perked up when she saw a familiar head of black hair walking by outside. Nino was walking past the doors with what looked to be a few of his friends. His head  was turned as he talked with the jackal cryptid beside him, keeping him distracted from looking in the direction of the front doors. 

Smirking, Clawdeen pulled out her phone. She pulled up his number and sent him a message. 

_I see u ;)_ she typed out and sent it. 

Looking up, she  observed him as the three of them  turned so that their backs were to her and started making their way down the steps. She could see Nino pause and look down to bring out his phone and then look at the screen. 

She smiled as she saw him look around, obviously having received her text. His friends watched in confusion as he turned left and right, trying to spot her, before he faced forward towards the doors and looked in through them. His eyes widened as he caught sight of Clawdeen through the glass. 

Clawdeen grinned and waved at him. Nino smiled and waved back, before he cocked his thumb over his shoulder and mouthed  _I have to get to class._

_Then go,_ Clawdeen mouthed back, waving her hand at him in a dismissive gesture. Nino gave her a thumbs up, before he and his friends started heading back towards the stairs. Clawdeen turned her attention back to the front of the line as the dryad left and the ghoul then stepped up. 

Luckily, the ghoul didn’t take but a couple of minutes, and finally, it was her turn. 

“How could I help you, today?” the werejackal secretary asked as she continued typing something on her computer. She didn’t even look up at Clawdeen as she kept her gaze glued to the front of the screen. 

She chewed her gum in the corner of her mouth, before she snapped it again. Clawdeen frowned.  _Gross._

“Um, I have an appointment to my student ID?” Clawdeen said, “And I need to pick up some documents about requesting disability accommodations?”

“Name, please,” the jackal requested in a dead-panned tone. She typed something else into the computer and brought up a new window.

“Clawdeen Wolf.”

The jackal typed her name in. Her honey-colored eyes wandered down a page, before she seemed to come to Clawdeen’s allotment time. They finally left the screen (that couldn’t have been good for her eyes, Clawdeen pondered) as the jackal turned in her chair and leaned over the desk slightly to point at something to Clawdeen’s left.

“ID services are right past that window,” she explained as she gestured to a cubicle near the stairs, “You’re already signed in, so all you need to do is wait in the sitting area and someone will call your name. They’re also where you’ll want to go for any questions about monster resources. Any questions?”

Clawdeen shook her head, “Um, no. Thank you.”

“Okay, then,” the jackal said as she settled back in her seat, “Then you’re free to go.”

She was already turned back to the monitor as Clawdeen re-shouldered her purse and started towards the cubicle that she pointed at. As she walked away, she heard the jackal let out another hard crack of her gum. This time, she frowned.

_Just blow a whole ass bubble in my face while you’re at it, why don’t you?_ She thought to herself with annoyance. 

She sat in the waiting area of ID Services like she was told, before her name was called to the back room where the camera was.

“Now, look directly here,” the rotund vampiress in charge of taking the picture said as she pointed to the lens, “And just give us your biggest smile!” 

Clawdeen did what she hoped was a convincing one, complete with her mouth open to show her teeth. 

“There you go!” the vampiress exclaimed, “Show us those pretty pearly whites! And one...two...three!” 

After the picture was taken, the vampiress then printed the card and put it through a lamination machine. She handed to Clawdeen, as well as several documents pertaining to their disability services. 

“Now, you’ll want to fill out this request form,” she was explaining to Clawdeen as she led her back out the door, tapping on one of the forms in the werewolf’s hands, “And then submit it back to Monster High’s and our front offices, or inform your supervisor of it. We’re also going to ask you to submit a health care provider statement, so that we can better understand your condition and how we can modify things to respond to your request.” 

She added, “And make sure the information you put down is complete and accurate. If not, it may delay the process since we’ll need time to clarify your needs.” 

Clawdeen nodded in understanding. She looked up at the vampiress. “And this information I do give you,” she said, “It won’t be given out to anyone else, will it?” 

The vampiress smiled at her and shook her head. “Any and all diagnoses or personal information is to remain confidential outside of our services.  You may get classmates who catch on to you not taking tests at the same time as them or having longer time, but of course, that’s your choice of whether or not to give out that reasoning to them.” 

“Okay,” Clawdeen said, “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome!” the vampiress smiled at her, “And of course, feel free to call us between nine and six on weekdays if you have any other questions.” 

Clawdeen left the building and stood outside on the walkway. It was a sunny day out, but  the air was as cold as a freezer today. She shivered and quickly pulled on her gloves from the  purple belted down coat that her brother Howlyesses had bought her for Christmas, before also pulling on her knitted beanie and pulling up the fur lined hood. 

Once her fingers were encased in warmth, she pulled her phone back out and texted her mom. 

_I’m done. B waiting out front_

A few seconds later, Harriet texted her back. _B a little while._ _Grocery store was crowded n I’m in stuck in traffic._

A burst of wind came blowing in from the south. Clawdeen grimaced and crossed her arms to try and keep herself warm.

_So how long will u b?_ She asked. 

Harriet replied, _30 min, at the most. Sorry baby :(_

“Great,” Clawdeen muttered, huddling into herself as another blast of wind hit her. She thanked herself for deciding to go with jeans today instead of the leggings she had originally planned.

She was considering going back inside and just waiting for Harriet there until she arrived, when her eyes suddenly caught of a small building a block away from the college’s main building. It was small and made of brick, with a few tables with umbrellas and chairs set out front. The foldable sign that was placed on the sidewalk out front advertised it as “Shanty’s Cafe.”

Clawdeen didn’t remember it being there the few times she’d gone up here to the community college in prior years. It must’ve been another store that had been built while she was absent. As she took the cafe in, she saw two ghouls exit, both holding to-go cups of coffee in their mitted hands. Even from here, Clawdeen could see the steam piping up from the holes in the drink caps.

Her stomach rumbled at the thought of having a hot drink. Even with her winter fur and all the thick layers she’d put on this morning, she was freezing and could feel her toes start to go numb in her boots. She hadn’t had any lunch yet, as her and Harriet had to leave early so the latter could stop and put gas in the truck. And she did have some cash that she’d gotten in her Cryptmas cards.

It didn’t take much to convince herself to head on over. Clawdeen sent a quick text to her mom of where she was going before she began to walk in the direction of the cafe, quickening her pace in an attempt to get out of the cold as soon as possible.

_It’s not so bad. You’ve stood out in worst cold late at night, without nearly as many clothes,_ a voice in the back of her mind pointed out. 

Clawdeen responded to herself, “Yeah, that doesn’t mean I  _need_ to keep withstanding it if I don’t have to, now.” 

She pulled open the doors to the cafe and was relieved at the cloud of warm air that immediately enveloped her  as she stepped in. The small building was nice and heated and she felt a pleasant round of goosebumps break out on her skin as any cold she was feeling quickly melted away. Clawdeen stuffed her hands in her pockets and took a look around. 

It was a  nice , simple set-up. The walls were painted yellow and decorated with a bunch of framed  pictures and license plates. The tables and chairs were made of dark wood and lined the walls. The counter had  baked goods behind a glass counter, and the available options were displayed behind and above the baristas on an old fashioned chalkboard. 

With class being in session, there weren’t many people in the cafe right now, save for a few sitting in the corners on laptops and one couple that was splitting a croissant.  The woman managing the counter looked up and smiled at Clawdeen as she approached warily. 

“Hi!” she greeted, “How can I help you?” 

Clawdeen looked up at the menu briefly, reading out the drinks, before she glanced back at her. 

“Um, could I just get a hazelnut cappucino?” she asked, “Medium, please?” 

“Sure! And would you like that with any whip cream?” the barista asked, typing in the order on the register. 

“No, thanks,” Clawdeen said. 

She pulled out a ten and handed it to the barista as she announced the price, before giving her name and going over to a table to wait. As she sat down, Clawdeen took another look at all the décor that hung on the walls. 

As she noticed, the pictures were actually all vintage advertisements of various products. She spotted an old-fashioned logo for Crypt Cola and a metal sign that boasted about the greatness of Painnier Beer among them. The license plates were vintage as well, with the old metal all scratched up and even bent for some as they displayed  the states and numbers; there were quite a few from Oregon, but Clawdeen saw some that said to have been all the way from Howlwaii  or Roarida. 

It was a cute design, she thought. The choices gave the whole place a nice, homely feel, like it had been here for years, even though it couldn’t have been more than a few years old. It seemed like the exact place she could imagine Operetta hanging out at-

“Cappucino for Clawdeen?” one of the baristas called as he held up her cup. 

Clawdeen broke away from her thoughts and stood up. She walked over to the counter and gave the barista a small thank you as he handed it over. 

As she turned around to head back to the table she’d been sitting at, the door to the cafe swung open. 

Clawdeen stopped. Her eyes widened as she saw who had come in. 

“-and ah told them no,” Operetta was in the middle of saying as she readjusted her purse, her other hand holding her phone to her ear. She frowned as she listened to the person on the other end. 

“Ah said it wouldn’t make sense for us to keep it until the end of the month, when the modem’s not even plugged in,” she replied, “Why would we keep the ‘net until then when we don’t even have tha thing to _use_ the ‘net?...Yeah, that’s what ah said.” 

She looked up ahead as she started heading for the counter. She was wearing a vintage-style black peacoat and had her bright red hair tied up in a ponytail with a bandana. Her attention was turned downward as she started rifling in her purse for her wallet, keeping her from seeing the stunned werewolf who stood away from her near the wall. Clawdeen stared at her in shock, her mouth falling open. 

The last time she’d seen Operetta was in DC, when the phantom had somehow ended up in the area that she and the ghouls usually worked. Clawdeen remembered she’d been feeling down that day, due to the circumstances that had happened the previous night; she would’ve been completely oblivious to seeing Operetta, had the latter not called out her name as she stepped out of the corner store. 

They had stared at each other in that moment, both of them too aghast at the sight of one another to do anything else. 

When they did, though, it didn’t take much for Operetta to see what Clawdeen had been up to. She’d taken one look at the werewolf’s clothes and the look in her eyes and immediately it had all clicked. 

_Oh, darlin’,_ Clawdeen recalled her saying,  _What have they done to you?_

Clawdeen hadn’t been able to answer her, as right at that moment, they’d both been forced to retreat and find shelter as car had come by, gunfire rattling from its interior in an attempted drive-by as it attempted to hit the man who’d been running from them. After that, Clawdeen had been forced to go, as James had picked her up to take her to her next client.

As she left, though, Operetta had come running out of the alleyway and had tried to chase the car, all the while calling out Clawdeen’s name. Once the car was out of sight, though, that was the last time Clawdeen had seen her.

It had been like a punch in the gut as she had watched the phantom grow smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror. It had taken every fiber of Clawdeen’s being to fight against the strong urge that had invaded her then to just curl up in a ball in the seat and cry.

For the first time in years, there seemed to be a way for her to get out, and once again, she had let it slip away from her.

Except...it hadn’t.

After that day, things _had_ started to change in Clawdeen’s area.

That was when the ghoul had showed up.

The one who had started asking questions around the town about her. The one who Clawdeen had suspected was a cop, and turned out to be one after all.

After that, the Deathschain brothers were arrested. And soon after, everything had gone to hell.

Aran had told her, the night he got arrested, when he had started to beat her, that he’d gotten word that someone had leaked it to the police that someone matching her description had been seen around the area.

Now, Clawdeen was sure of who that leak had come from.

Snapping back into attention, she took an attentive step forward.

“O-Operetta?” she called out.

Operetta, still focused on getting her wallet out, looked up, curious at who was talking to her.

Her eyes landed on Clawdeen and immediately went bigger than dollar coins. Her lips, painted their signature fire engine red color, parted into an o-shape of disbelief.

The two of them just stood there, gaping at one another. Whoever Operetta had been talking to on the phone continued to talk, their voice like the buzzing of a bee. Neither of them paid attention to it.

Behind the counter, the barista glanced between them, her eyebrows raising in confusion at the womens’ reaction. Shrugging, she went into the back area for a moment to clean something up. Whatever it was between them, it wasn’t any of her business.

Finally, her eyes never leaving Clawdeen, Operetta turned her face slightly towards her cell, where whoever was on the line was calling out her name.

“...Johnny, ahmma hafta call ya back,” she said, “...Yeah. Love ya too.”

Before anything else could be said, she ended the call and brought her phone away from her ear. Her arm dropped down to hang at her side, grasping it tightly. She straightened up and continued to stare at Clawdeen in disbelief.

They probably looked really awkward and ridiculous right now, with the both of them facing one another and just gawking like they were frozen in place, but neither of them noticed, each two focused on the woman who was standing before her.

Suddenly, Operetta’s lip quivered. Clawdeen could see tears start to prick at the corners of her eyes.

“Operetta,” she finally said, “I-”

She was cut off as the phantom threw herself at her, causing her to stumble back and nearly lose her balance. Her brows went up in surprise at the action. Operetta buried her face against her shoulder and threw her arms around the back of her neck, wrapping the werewolf up in a tight hug.

“Ah was so worried about ya,” Operetta mumbled to her, her voice shaky, “After what happened on the street, ah didn’t know what to do, and the cops wouldn’t say anything, a-a-and then we had to leave, and-and...and ah was so scared about ya.”

She sniffled like she was trying to hold back tears as she hugged Clawdeen tighter. Clawdeen stood there, frozen, before her breath suddenly caught in her throat, and before she knew it, she too was on the verge of her own tears.

Quickly, being mindful of the coffee in her hands, she wrapped her arms around Operetta’s back and hugged her in return.

“I-I-I know,” she said, “I-I’m okay, now. I swear. I’m...I’m okay.”

They stood there for a few minutes, silently hugging it out, taking comfort in the presence that either felt in her arms. The reality of their encounter back in DC started to hit the both of them hard, and for a few minutes they could do nothing more than stand there and try not to cry.

* * *

“So...” Operetta said, “What’ve ya been up to? Ah saw on Lala’s post that ya’ll spent the howlidays together...”

Clawdeen shrugged and took a sip of her coffee. When the two of them had finally settled down from their little reunion, Operetta had pulled back and said she wanted to hear everything. Clawdeen had waited for her at the table she’d been using while she waited as the phantom ordered an iced coffee and bought herself a chocolate cookie.

Now, as she took a seat across from Clawdeen, Operetta held her drink in both hands and awaited the werewolf’s answer.

“Yeah, it was really nice...” Clawdeen said with a smile, “Getting to be with everyone again. Lala and them also keep doing stuff to get me out of the house. You know, make sure I don’t become a total shut-in or agoraphobe or whatever.

“It’s almost a bit too much at times,” she admitted, “I mean, I know they’re just looking out for me. But sometimes I feel like they don’t get that it’s not me being anti-social. Sometimes, I just want my own space.”

“Ah get that,” Operetta nodded, “Mah mama used to be the same way wit’ Daddy. She wanted to show him he didn’t have to hide himself from the rest of the world because of his scars and whatnot, but even without it, Daddy’s just an introvert like that.”

She picked up her cup and took a sip from her straw, before she took a bite of her cookie.

“What about you?” Clawdeen asked, “I mean, I get I still need to make up for a lot of lost time with a bunch of people we knew, but even then I’ll see people like Venus or Iris at the post office or something and talk to them. I feel like I haven’t seen you at all.”

“Well, ah’ve been gone for a while,” Operetta explained, “Johnny n’ me been on the road, tourin’, when the whole case broke out. And then, we visited mah old pal Flynn back on the Bayou for a few weeks, so ah just got back in town mahself.”

“You’re touring?” Clawdeen asked in interest, “That’s cool.”

“Oh, don’t be mistaken,” Operetta smiled, “It ain’t all glitz and gore like them crappy lil Howlmark movies try to make it seem. ‘Specially when you’s a small artist. Ya can’t afford one of them fancy-shmancy tour busses like all the big stars got, so ya really got a figure out how ya gonna move everyone and everythang. By the time ya even reach the first show, ya already burn out just from being cramped with your guitar poking ya in the side.”

They both chuckled at that. Clawdeen asked, “Really? Isn’t your dad really known for his operas and stuff? Couldn’t that have helped you out a bit.”

Operetta made a face, “Ah, mean, yeah, but writing operas and _also_ bein’ known as the guy who dropped a chandelier on an entire audience don’t really get people wantin’ to do business with ya. Plus, ah wanted to build mahself on mah own, without needin’ a ‘legacy’ to get ahead.”

“That’s fair,” Clawdeen agreed.

“Anyway, this last tour, we’ve just both been going along the east since August,” Operetta continued, “Festivals, bar nights, howliday concerts. Ya know, nothin’ too expensive, but with enough audience that ya know is at least gonna get _some_ people talkin’.”

“That’s a long time to tour for,” Clawdeen said.

“Eh, it’s pretty mild,” Operetta countered, “They had openin’s and we decided to take ‘em, do as much as we can to get as much money just in time for the year to end, ya know? Plus, it wasn’t like we were spendin’ all day just travelin’ or performin’. We took some days off to sight see.”

A thought came to her and her expression faltered. She gave Clawdeen a look, before her gaze fell to the table in front of her.

“That was actually why…” she said, her voice much lower, “Why ah was there when ah...ah ran into ya that time...”

She let her gaze drop to her lap. Clawdeen, who’d been bringing her cup to take another drink, paused with her arm halfway to her mouth. She lifted her head at the phantom. Her brows knitted together at the sudden turn in conversation; she swallowed hard and set it down.

The silence stretched between them. Around them, other customers walked by to place and pick up their orders, oblivious to the sudden dark subject that the two monsters had encountered.

“...Can ah ask you a question?” Operetta said, lifting her head to look up at her, “Ya don’t have to answer if ya don’t want to, but...

Clawdeen looked at her, unsure. “...What...what do you want to know?”

“That day ah ran into ya,” Operetta clarified, now looking at her seriously, “What...what happened after that? Where did ya go?”

What _didn’t_ happen after that, Clawdeen thought of saying. She kept it to herself; she didn’t reply at first, her gaze absentmindedly directed toward a scratch in the table as she slowly spun her cup in her hands, thinking about that day.

Letting out a heavy sigh, she looked back at Operetta and told her about the events that followed come their meeting. She kept some details out, such as the nature of how she knew the Deathschains and Annabelle or the nature of the illness that had plagued for months before Dr. Yokai’s diagnosis; some of those she wasn’t ready to share with even Jennifur, much less Operetta, and she also didn’t want to risk having any nosy people nearby overhearing it.

“...we all ran out of the farmhouse, then,” Clawdeen concluded as she explained to the phantom what happened the night they were finally taken away, “They tried chasing up. But by then, before any of them could do any real damage, the police had showed up. I fainted, after that. The next morning, I woke up in the hospital and they were all in jail.”

She sat back in her chair as she finished. She spread her hands out in front of her in a “so there” fashion and slowly looked up. Operetta was watching her, a grim look on her face. She shook her head in disbelief.

“Ah can’t believe it,” she said, “Ah remember seeing that detective when we first went to the police station, and he said they’d look into things. Ah didn’t think he’d actually go out there himself.”

She suddenly frowned. “Seems a bit irresponsible of them, actually. Ah mean, they should know how something as dangerous as these scenarios can be. Ya think they’d be a little more considerate of the victim’s safety and be...ah don’t know, a bit more _stealthier_ than that.

“Ah mean, they could have very well mucked up their own ‘vestigation!” she exclaimed, “Don’t that seem like such an amateur move, just askin’ around!”

Clawdeen shrugged, “I wouldn’t know. Even if it was, though I don’t think I can be too mad at them. Because of that, they were able to find us and get me out of that shit hole.”

A thought occurred to her. She blinked, before she slowly looked at Operetta. The latter raised a brow at her, surprised by the amount of emotion present in her bright gold eyes.

“Actually...if it wasn’t for _you,_ I wouldn’t even be here right now,” Clawdeen said, “If you hadn’t told them anything, I might still be back there. You...you _saved_ me.”

Her throat suddenly felt very tight. “I owe you everything for that. Thank you, Operetta. From the bottom of my heart and soul, thank you.”

“You’re my friend,” Operetta said, “Ya don’t turn ya backs on your friends, especially when ya see them in such a state like that.”

She eased back in her chair and fiddled with her engagement ring. “When ya disappeared, none of us knew what to do. How do ya go on, knowin’ one of the ghouls who’s been by yer side, who’s been with ya through thick and thin, might be out there somewhere, and ya can’t do anythin’ to help them?

“So when ah saw you by that corner store, hurt, sad, scared...” Operetta paused for a moment and closed her eyes, fighting against the crack in her voice, “Ah prayed more than ah think ah ever have in my whole unlife. Ah swore that if it turned out to just be a random ghoul, ah probably would’ve been more heartbroken than ah was when my spider died.”

She met Clawdeen’s eyes once more. “Ah knew, when it was you, that ah had to do somethin’. Ah had to find some way to help ya, even if ah didn’t know where ya went.”

Operetta chuckled as she thought of somethin’. “Ah’m pretty sure the police down there hate mah guts by now. After we filed the police report and we left, every mornin’, noon, and night, ah called them to hear if they heard anythin’. And all those sons of bitches could say was that they were ‘lookin’ into it’. And ah’d be like ‘well, if ya could actually _search_ and find something, that would be better than just lookin’.”

Clawdeen smirked. However, something else seemed to occur to Operetta, as her smile quickly fell. Her cheeks turned rosy with a blush.

“Ah told the police about mah connection to ya. But...ah didn’t call Clawd or yer family to tell them,” she admitted, “I should’ve said somethin’, though. Ah just...didn’t think it was right, to give them false hope like that, in case nothin’ did end up comin’ out of it. Ah’m sorry, Clawdeen.”

“Don’t be,” Clawdeen insisted, “You made the right call. I mean, I don’t think it would’ve been very comforting for my mom to hear her daughter was spotted, and then went off in some unmarked car with a strange guy and never returned to that spot.”

Operetta seemed to consider this. She gave a small nod. “Yeah, yer right ‘bout that.”

She took another sip of her drink. “So now that yer...out of that place, how ya feel bein’ back in Salem? Now that ya’ve had the time to spend time with yer family and go out and all that?”

“Honestly?” Clawdeen replied, “Some days are good. And some days...”

She let out another sigh, “Some days are real bad. Like, really, really bad. Like, I’ll hear something happened at the trial, or see something that reminds me of being _there,_ and I just...shut down.”

Operetta frowned at the mention of the trial. “That thang’s _still_ goin’ on? Jeezus, how long do they need? It seems pretty open and shut in mah damn book!”

“You’d think, but the defense is _really_ good at being able to find some reason to delay it or call a recess or pull some bullshit to keep the jury from finally reaching its verdict,” Clawdeen said.

She put her elbow up on the table and rested her temple against her palm as she gazed at the dregs of her drink warily.

“And every day something doesn’t happen is one more day I wonder if it’s even all worth it,” she muttered, “Like, if they still can argue and fight for this long, even with all this evidence, who’s to say we’ll even _get_ a verdict in the end? Who knows that they won’t find some loophole that will get the judge to just throw the whole thing out?”

Operetta frowned at the defeat in her tone. She reached over and grabbed Clawdeen’s arm and gave it a squeeze.

“Ya can’t start thinkin’ like that,” she said, “Yer only gonna stress yourself out. This _will_ work out in the end, and every one those bastards that hurt you and the rest of them ghouls will pay for it.”

“Even so,” Clawdeen says, “It doesn’t mean my life will magically improve. I mean, even if they give him the _death penalty_ , if they can, I still have all this shit I have to work out. All these reminders that I can’t get rid of...”

She rubbed her right arm as she said this, a faraway, pained look filling her eyes. She looked at the wall in despair. Operetta noticed the gesture and frowned.

That’s when she remembered something that Holt had mentioned to her that Frankie had said the first time her and the rest of Clawdeen’s closest friends went to visit her.

_She says she had this tattoo on her arm,_ he said,  _This really shitty one that looks like the kind you get from an amateur. She said she thinks it’s one that Clawdeen was forced to get. Really sick shit, huh?_

Aw.

Operetta let her gaze linger on the werewolf for a second. She narrowed her eyes and sucked in her lips as she thought of something.

“...Ya know,” she said, “Ah know someone who does cover-ups for stuff like that.”

That got Clawdeen’s attention. She immediately perked up and glanced over at her, a bit confused as to what she was talking about.

Operetta nodded at her arm. “He does tattoos for people who’ve been in bad situations and need it covered up. Monsters who’ve self-harmed, those who had hate symbols inked on and no longer carry those beliefs, ghouls who’ve...been in your situation.”

“R-Really?” Clawdeen asked.

“Yeah,” Operetta said, “And he does them for free. So if ya have any scars or...other stuff, that’s a result of being up in that shit hole, if ya call him, he’ll gladly cover it up for ya.”

She grabbed a napkin and dug through her purse for a pen. She uncapped it and began to write something down on the napkin.

“In fact, lemme give ya his number,” she said, “His name’s Chris. All ya to do is call him, or come into his shop, and if ya explain to him what happened, he’ll book ya for an appointment right away.”

She wrote the last digit and slid the napkin over to Clawdeen. Clawdeen looked down at the phone number in surprise.

There was nothing more she wanted than to finally be rid of the ugly, disgusting tats that had been forced into her skin. They were horrible, and they were humiliating. They made Clawdeen want to take steel wool to her skin and just scrub her skin off until she reached the bone.

They had been painful to get- Aran and the sorry excuse of a tattoo artist who’d applied them had been forced to hold her down as Clawdeen screamed herself hoarse and begged them to stop the whole time- and afterward, they had gotten infected and forced in bed for days with a high fever, with one of the few coherent thoughts she had during that time being a great fear that she wouldn’t get better. She grew panicked and afraid that she had contracted a severe blood disease or something that could kill her, or disfigure her, or something else unspeakable.

But unlike the degrading genital piercings she’d been forced to also get- all three of which Clawdeen had gladly removed and threw in the trash while she was in the hospital- she couldn’t just take her tattoos off, or trade her skin.

They were permanent. They’d be there forever, so everyone could see.

So that Clawdeen would be forced to see them and consistently be reminded of those dark days. She hated them. On her worst days, when her mental health was at its lowest, Clawdeen sometimes considered just taking a knife and carving all three of them out. At least a scar you could brush off as an accident or something surgical.

So now that Operetta said someone could change that, it was like a light in the tunnel.

Could it be true? Could someone really take these ugly blobs that had desecrated her skin and turn into something beautiful?

The hope of the situation was so great, she nearly called the number right then and there. But, as she thought it over more, Clawdeen winced.

That would mean getting tattooed again, though. She’d have to bear the pain of lying in that chair again, having a needle pounded into her skin as her flesh felt like it was steadily being lit on fire. On instinct, her muscles tightened with the sensation of the pain that radiated out of her entire body at the memory of her first experience.

She could always not go through with it, but that would mean she’d be stuck with the tattoos forever. But if she did, she’d have to be put through the worse pain of her unlife for...well, however long it would take. She couldn’t win.

As if reading her thoughts, Operetta said, “Just think ‘bout it, okay? Ah just thought it might help ya to not constantly have anything ya don’t want on yer body any longer.

“Ya could even call me, if ya want,” she suggested, “Obviously, ah’ve gone through the process more than a couple of times...”

She tugged on the sleeve of her coat to showcase one of her colorful tattoo sleeves for emphasis. “So if ya want,” she said, pulling it back down, “Ah could help talk to ya about any questions ya might have.”

Clawdeen looked back at her from the napkin. “You mean that?”

“Of course!” Operetta said.

Clawdeen looked back down at the napkin. The artist, Chris’s, number stuck out at her in bright red ink. She took a hold of it and brought it up closer, before finally, she slid it into her pocket.

“T-Thanks, Operetta,” she said.

“Anytime, ghoul,” Operetta said, giving her a thumbs up, “Ya know ah’m always gonna be here for ya, through all the bullhockey and the bayou blues.”

Clawdeen smiled. She realized then how much she truly missed the phantom and her classic Cajun mannerisms.

Her phone suddenly buzzed. Clawdeen pulled up her messages. She had a new one from her mom.

_Waiting outside,_ Harriet’s text read,  _R u still at the cafe._

_Yes,_ Clawdeen replied,  _B right out._

She looked back up at Operetta. “I have to go. Thanks for the recommendation.”

“No problem,” Operetta said, standing up with her, “Here, ah’ll walk out with you. Ah’m supposed to meet Johnny at the music store, anyway.”

They gathered their trash and dumped it, before they stepped out into the afternoon. Immediately, they both let out cries of protest as the harsh winter air assaulted them once more.

“Aw, goddammit! Ah just did my hair!” Operetta yelled out. She yanked her beret over her now mused curls in a desperate attempt to salvage them. Clawdeen giggled at her reaction, though she knew she was probably looking the same way, as she held onto the ends of her hood to try and keep it from being blown back.

Up ahead, she could see Harriet waiting for her on the curb of the street. Clawdeen turned to Operetta.

“I guess I’ll see you around?” she asked.

Operetta nodded once she fixed her hair. “Definitely. Just give me a call and we’ll hang out like ol’ times.”

“I will,” Clawdeen assured her with a smile. She held out her arms. Operetta grinned and walked into them, welcoming the long-needed hug.

“Thank you again,” Clawdeen murmured to her, “I owe my unlife to you. You were really the one that helped me come home.”

“Ah was just lookin’ out for mah friends,” Operetta said, “That’s all.”

She pulled back to look Clawdeen in the eye. “If ya insist on actin’ like ya want to reward me, though,” she added, “Ah think ah deserve to be part of this group text once again. Ah know you and the ghouls have one! Don’t be thinkin’ that y’all gonna keep me out just cuz ah ain’t there to see it for mahself! Ah still want to know the gossip and the updates!”

Clawdeen smirked, “I’ll make sure to put you in.”

“Ya better,” Operetta said, “Cuz if I find out ah’ve been in town all this time and y’all ghostin’ me, ah’ll kick yer asses.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt it,” Clawdeen chuckled.

And with that, the two parted ways and left, Clawdeen heading for her mom’s car while Operetta started for her own car that was parked in the lot a few feet over.

* * *

A few days later, Clawdeen gave Chris a call.

They talked for a few hours.

“ _Unfortunately, my waiting list is a bit long,”_ he admitted, “ _The earliest I can book you is April.”_

“That’s fine,” Clawdeen said.

He booked her and said he’d see her then.


	14. Chapter 13: Too School for Cool

Clawdeen looked up at the giant three story Victorian-esque building in front of her. In any other circumstance, it would’ve been enjoyable to come back to this setting, if it was for a day of just wanting to pop in and visit some familiar faces, maybe, or to just pick up her siblings and then take a minute to chat with some of her old teachers. 

Alas, her reasoning for being here was not for a simple visit, but because, just like the hoard of students who were shuffling past her, she had to complete her education. At least, she had to if she finally wanted to get her diploma, like she thought she already would have five years ago. 

Sighing, Clawdeen adjusted her hold on her purse and her backpack. Taking one last look at the printed schedule in her hand, she looked back up and joined the rest of her fellow alumni in making her way up the front steps of Monster High. 

The school didn’t look like it had changed much since she’d last stepped foot in here, and yet, as Clawdeen entered the commons area and looked around, it also seemed so different at the same time. Maybe it could’ve just been the fact that there were four additional class banners up on the walls that she didn’t remember being there. 

Glancing at the locker number she’d been assigned, Clawdeen quickly looked around and shuffled through the hallways to find it, before she made her way over and started trying out the combination. As she got it undone and opened it, she heard some whispering behind her. 

“...the one who made the news a couple months ago?” she heard some ghoul ask, “The one who was found part of that sex cult or something?” 

“Yeah,” another answered, “The one about the trafficking ring. What’s she doing here?” 

“Probably wanted a clean slate. I can’t believe she’s _here_ , though. After that chick came here, I would think I’d be too freaked out to want to come back,” A third interjected. 

Clawdeen stilled. Her hand gripped the locker door tightly to the pint her claws were starting to dig into the paint. 

“I mean, good for her, I guess,” the second voice said, “Though I don’t get why you’d want to come back, either. Like, you’re an adult and you want to come back to _high school_?” 

Her hackles were rising. Clawdeen grit her teeth, fighting against the low growl she could feel rising in the back of her throat. Her other hand gripped the strap of her backpack so hard her knuckles were turning white. 

Quickly, she slammed her locker shot. A few of the other students were around her jumped, but Clawdeen paid them no notice as she whirled around on her heel. Right away, she saw the ghouls were talking about her; they were standing right outside one of the bathrooms by the drinking fountain- a werecat, a lightning elemental, and an undine. 

The ghouls paled as the werewolf turned in their direction, clearly not expecting such a sudden reaction. Their conversation ceased immediately; as Clawdeen looked in their direction, they all turned their heads away from her and focused their gazes on random objects, clearly trying to avoid her. 

Clawdeen felt like she had half a mind to say something.  _Easy for you little bitches to talk shit that you have no idea about, isn’t it?_ She thought bitterly.  Why did it seem so hard for some people to just mind their own damn business, sometimes? 

Y et,  she was still aware of the massive amounts of students in the hallways at the moment. Them and some of the teachers, who were standing outside their classes to greet their students as they walked in. The last thing she needed, or wanted, was to cause a scene before it was even ten o’clock. 

She settled for just turning away from the ghouls and heading for her first class.  Clawdeen could feel them looking at her as she turned her back. 

“Do you think she heard us?” the lightning elemental asked. 

“I...I don’t know,” undine answered. 

There was a noticeable pump in her step as Clawdeen picked up the pace. The morning bell hadn’t already wrung, and already she was not liking this day. 

She could only hope it would be over quickly. 

* * *

“Now, I know today is the first day back,” the Clawculus teacher said as she wrote something down on the chalk board, her back to the class, “So don’t worry, I’m not going to give you _too_ much work. But I do want to introduce our first lesson, just to give everyone a sense of the subject matter that we’ll be discussing for the scaremester and the difficulty...” 

Clawdeen sat at the back of the class, watching the teacher with a bored expression as she tapped her pencil on  the open page of her notebook. She tried to pay attention as the teacher drew a makeshift grid and added a graph with a slope,  though she took a quick glance at the clock. 

She repressed a groan when she saw the time. Only ten minutes had passed since class started. 

“This is actually not something we’ll be learning in depth, so if you don’t find it helpful, that’s okay,” the teacher said, “This is just something that I figured we could go over that may prove helpful to some of you in the near future on quizzes and tests...” 

S he paused for a minute and handed out a thing of worksheets to each row. The students at the front took one for themselves, before turning in their seats to pass the rest back. As Clawdeen received hers, she could see that it was a photo that matched what the teacher had drawn on the board. 

“This is an alternate way of finding out the slope,” the teacher explained, going back to the board, “You simply count the squares within the parameters of the x and y-axes. This includes squares in which the slope goes halfway through. Then, you take the dimensions of that and...” 

Clawdeen listened in, trying to follow along. She grimaced, however, as she struggled to listen to what the teacher was saying. 

_Counting the squares..._ she thought as she glanced between the board and her sheet. She used her pencil to  count out and shade in the squares that were within the upside down U-shaped that the graph had formed. 

_Okay, there are ten squares, what’s next?_ She thought glancing up at the board,  _It’s like a hill, so we know right away it’s an exponential equation._

_Or is it linear? Wait- fuck! Which one is it when it looks like a hill?_ Clawdeen thought, suddenly distracted,  _It has to be linear, isn’t it? That means the formula is...fuck, what is the equation?_

She looked back up at the board,  leaving the thought alone for now, only to feel her heart sink when she saw the teacher writing an equation on the board Clawdeen didn’t recognize. 

“Then, you carry this over,” the teacher was in the middle of explaining, drawing arrows on the equation she had written to demonstrate the numbers she was getting. 

_Wait, where did she get those numbers?_ Clawdeen thought. She looked back down at her paper and counted out the squares again. She only got half of what the teacher had.  _Where did all the other ones come from?_

She bit her lip, frantically looking back up at the board. She tried to listen to understand what was going on, but none of what was being explained made sense. She looked around; all the other students had their heads down, only occasionally glancing up to write something else down as they followed along. They seemed to be having no problem with the teacher’s explanations.

Swallowing hard, Clawdeen felt her knee start to bounce up and down as she quickly felt anxiety overtaking her. She had no idea what was going on. She didn’t have any clue what the teacher was doing. Already, she was lost, and they weren’t even halfway done with class on the first day.

A sudden lump appeared in her throat. She felt tears prick her eyes. Her leg start jiggling more rapidly. She tapped the end of her pencil on her paper sharply, leaving behind little black dots on the white construction.

_I don’t know what she’s talking about,_ Clawdeen thought in despair,  _I don’t know, I don’t know!_

This was a mistake. There was no way she was going to be able to make sense of any of this. All these numbers and formulas might as well have been hieroglyphics to her. They just danced off the page and floated around in her vision as her mind failed to make any connections as to what they were saying. 

A seed of dread began to bloom in her stomach. She shouldn’t have agreed to this. She came back way too soon; what was she thinking, enrolling in all of this after five whole years? She could barely remember what she’d learned about her junior year back then. How  the hell did she think she could be able to jump back into all these subjects in the middle of the year, like she could just pick up from where she left off? She didn’t even know  _where_ she’d left off. 

This was a mistake, this was a huge mistake. She couldn’t do this. She’d fail all her subjects and would have to take it again. Or she’d just drop out and catch up. Either way, she’d only fall further behind.  Her friends would move farther and farther up in the world, and she’d have to stay where she was. She couldn’t do this, she couldn’t do this. Nothing of this made sense. There was no way she could-

There was a light tap at her elbow. 

“Hey, you okay?” 

Clawdeen raised her head and blinked.  Slowly, she turned her head to the right. A vampiress sat in the seat next to her, her brows furrowed as she gazed at Clawdeen with concern, her yellow eyes peeping out beneath the fringe of her wine-colored hair. 

“Uh...” Clawdeen looked up at the clock. To her surprise, ten minutes had already passed in class. She looked back out front. 

The teacher seemed to be done with the problem. She stood facing the class now, currently talking about what she expected from them and how it was designed. 

“...a quiz every week,” she said, “On Wednesday, with the obvious exception of days we have off. You’ll have twenty minutes to do them. The lowest three will be dropped at the end of the year...” 

Swiping at her eyes, Clawdeen sniffed and looked back down at her worksheet. It was still blank. 

“Um, yeah...” she whispered back. She wiped at her nose with her finger, feeling slightly embarrassed as she took a deep breath to calm the racing feeling in her chest. Did she really just almost freak out over a _math problem?_

The vampire muttered back, “You looked really freaked out. You sure you don’t need to go to the nurse?” 

Clawdeen shook her head. “I’m fine.” 

She turned her attention back to the front of the class, doing her best to listen as the teacher recited the syllabus. However, she could still feel the vampire looking at her, the latter probably still wondering about the scene she had just bared witness to. Clawdeen would’ve snapped at her if she wasn’t already feeling humiliated enough. 

It was only first period on the first day, and already she’d almost had a panic attack or over something as simple as a clawculus problem; one that the teacher said wasn’t even something she needed to know. 

Just one problem was enough to send her spiraling and catastrophizing her whole entire future. It was fucking pathetic. 

Just how shittier could this day get? Clawdeen wondered as she continued looking at the teacher, a melancholic expression on her face. For the rest of the period, though, she was too ashamed with herself to pay any more attention.

* * *

As if jinxing herself, Clawdeen found that the day hardly got better. 

At lunch period, she stood in the entrance of the creepateria, looking out at all the lunch tables that were filled up to try and find a place to sit. Most of them were filled, and the ones that did have empty spaces were with people that she didn’t even think she’d seen before.

Clawdeen shifted on her feet, struggling to make a decision. 

One empty space near the beam was near a bunch of boys who were pouring over trading cards. No. 

Another one was at a table with a group of ghouls who looked like they were freshmen, all of them crowded together as they exchanged what could only be gossip. _No._

That one space by one guy who sat by himself, his head down as he continuously stabbed the meatloaf on his plate with a spork, his eyes glaring down at it like it was one of his worst enemies whom he could finally bring as much suffering to? _Hell no._

Giving up, Clawdeen turned back and headed into the hallways. Some of the students were eating outside on the steps, but she thought it would be much too cold for her to enjoy the atmosphere. 

Instead, she made her way to her locker and pressed her back against it, sliding down so she was resting against the doors. She sat cross-legged and opened her lunch box, pulling out the turkey club sandwich that she had made for herself the night before. 

As she ate, she had her phone set on her thigh. Clawdeen looked down in the middle of a bite to see someone had sent her a text. It was one from Clawd. 

_ Hey!  _ The message read,  _How’s everythin goin so far? Just wanted to check in in case u finally were on a break :)_

Clawdeen gave a small half-smile. She let one hand go of her sandwich to type out a response. 

_ So-so,  _ she replied back,  _Could b better_

_ Felt too awkward asking someone if I could sit with them, so its just me myself n I by the lockers having a great single part :p _

_ Clawd: :( Do u need me to come pick u up?  _

_ Clawdeen: No. I’ll get thru it  _

_ Clawd: Just remember to breathe. It’s the 1st day, it’ll b all right.  _

_ Clawd: And try to make friends! You’re finishing up there, u might as well get to know some new faces while you’re at it!  _

In spite of her mood, Clawdeen did smile at his response. He was always trying so hard now to cheer her up. 

A few feet down, she heard a chorus of voices emerging from the boys’ bathroom. 

“Wait, so that’s his sister?” Clawdeen could hear one of them ask. 

“Yeah. I guess they decided they’d let her come back and finish,” a second voice commented. 

Two boys, a griffin and a pegasus, emerged from the bathroom. The pegasus was turned with his back to Clawdeen, so his wings blocked him and the griffin from seeing her there. 

“I have to say, though, it’s pretty obvious that whatever she went through, it definitely fucked her up. She’s a little...off, if you get my drift,” he was saying. 

The griffin replied, “How so?” 

“In clawculus, I looked over and I swear, she looked two seconds away from having a mental breakdown,” the pegasus replied. He shook his head, “I don’t know what’s going on with her, but I don’t think I’d be able to handle it. She seems like a little too much...she’s smoking hot, though.” 

“Ain’t that all that matters?” the griffin chuckled. 

They turned in the direction of the hall that was opposite from where Clawdeen had come from and started for the other entrance to the creepateria. 

Clawdeen sat, watching them go. Her sandwich lay in her hand, untouched since she had heard them come out. When they were out of sight, she turned her gaze to stare ahead at her. 

Slowly, she chewed the remaining portion of her sandwich that was in her mouth. There was no flavor to it, though; right now, it just tasted like mush to Clawdeen. 

Their conversation replayed in her head. She swallowed and grit her teeth. She gripped her sandwich tighter, nearly mashing it between her fingers.

After a beat of silence, Clawdeen hurriedly got up. She tossed the rest of her sandwich into the trash and shoved her lunch box back in her locker, before heading to the library for the rest lunch period. 

She wasn’t hungry anymore.

* * *

After what felt like at least three eternities, the last bell of the day _finally_ rang, signaling it had come to a close. Clawdeen didn’t think she could get out of the classroom fast enough. 

She looked at her planner as she stood at her locker, looking at all the class assignments she’d have to do or start on for today; she cringed when she saw the amount of things she had to do. 

If there was one thing about school she definitely did  _not_ miss, it was having to start doing homework again. 

Snapping the planner shut with a frown, Clawdeen slid it back in her purse and pulled out the necessary textbooks and notebooks, putting them in her backpack at her feet. Once she got everything she needed, Clawdeen pulled it around her back and slammed her locker shut, twisting the lock so it would reset the combination. 

“Hey, Clawdeen.” 

Curious, Clawdeen turned around to see who’d called her name. It was the vampire from clawculus. Immediately, Clawdeen felt her defenses go up. 

“Um...hi,” she greeted, holding her purse tightly, “Can...I help you with something?” 

The vampiress shrugged. She pushed up the sleeves of the oversized distressed purple and black sweater she was wearing and slid her hands into the pockets of  her  gr a y jeans. 

“I just wanted to talk to you about earlier,” she said, “About that problem in clawculus. It seemed like you were having a lot of trouble with it.” 

She swung around the small black drawstring bag she was wearing and pulled it open. She stuck her arm in and pulled out a folder, which she flipped through until she pulled out the sheet they’d been given. 

“If you want, I wrote down the steps that Mrs. Pawtterson was talking about,” she said, holding it out to Clawdeen, “You can look at it to see if it makes a little more sense, if you want?” 

Clawdeen looked down at the paper with surprise.  She glanced back up at the vampiress, searching her expression for if this was some kind of trick. The yellow-eyed ghoul only shook the paper at her, urging for her to take it. 

Finally, Clawdeen grabbed it from her and looked down at it. The worksheet was covered with dozens of formulas and little notes, with tiny arrows pointing to the graph as if to illustrate each step. 

“You can take a screenshot if you want,” the vampire suggested. 

“Um...thanks, um…?” Clawdeen stammered.

“Hellamy,” the vampire said. 

“Thanks, uh, Hellamy,” Clawdeen corrected, pulling out her phone. 

She held the worksheet out in front of her so she could get it within screen of her camera. Even now, all the numbers and symbols looked like a bunch of nonsense, especially now that she was tired from the day’s events. 

“And hey, if you ever need help, don’t be afraid to ask me,” Hellamy added, “I totally get what it’s like- to get lost and then feel like everything’s going right to hell. Believe me, that was me all the time in science. You can’t understand one thing, then another, then another, and before you know it you feel like everyone gets it and you’re just the loser who doesn’t know anything.” 

Taking a picture, Clawdeen actually gave her a genuine smirk from that. She handed the paper back. 

“Yeah,” she said in agreement, “It’s just...it’s been a while since I’ve had to any advanced math.” 

Hellamy nodded, “Again, I get that.  I just hope this can help a little.” 

She glanced down at the she-wolf’s outfit and grinned. She wore black lipstick, so  it made her fangs look extra white as they stuck out against her bottom lip. 

“Hey! I like your top!” she said, pointing to her shirt, “That from Onyx Juice?” 

Clawdeen glanced down at her front; she was wearing an off-the-shoulder top with galaxy print with a color palette of lime green and dark blue. 

“Thanks,” she said, “I, uh, don’t actually know. I think I got this at the thrift store a few years ago.” 

“Well, it’s cute either way,” Hellamy said, shrugging, “You should check that brand out, by the way. I don’t know if you’re into alternative stuff, but they have a lot of cute prints.” 

_ Finally, a subject I do understand,  _ Clawdeen thought with amusement. She smiled and nodded, “I’ll be sure to check them out.” 

Right then, a group of boys passed them. One of them at the edge, a gargoyle, grinned sharply at Clawdeen and gazed down at her figure lustfully. 

“Hey, mama wolf,” he called out to her, “Hit me up. I can show you how to _really_ howl at the moon.” 

Clawdeen’s hands clenched her straps as her face went bright red. She immediately felt a pit open up in her stomach at the sleazy way the gargoyle was looking at her. Her skin  crawled with disgust. 

He just grinned at her as his eyes roamed over her; it was obvious he was staring at her hips and her bust. Like he was trying to imagine how she looked underneath. It made Clawdeen feel so dirty.

The gargoyle’s friend, a wereraven, turned towards them and gave his own grin to Hellamy. 

“Hey, baby, how about I show you something you can _really_ suck on?” he asked. 

“Get bent, you fucking pigs,” Hellamy snapped at them. 

“Only if you’re the one doing it, sweetheart,” the wereraven shot back. 

Him and his friends chuckled and shot the both of them flirtatious looks. Hellamy sneered and raised both her hands up to give all them the bird. Clawdeen just hugged her purse closer to her chest and looked away. She could feel her face burning. 

Those comments were all too familiar to her. They were the kind she heard every day working the streets of DC, waiting for various client s, or in the back rooms of some dumpy excuse for a strip club as they got prepared. 

They always made her feel so disgusting and degraded. It was horrible, to hear it so obviously that all certain people could see was her body…

Hellamy turned back to her and noted the way the werewolf suddenly looked like she was on the verge of tears.

“Are you all right?” she asked. 

“Yeah,” Clawdeen said, not looking at her. 

“I’m going to go to talk to Bloodgood about them,” Hellamy said, shooting a disdained glance at the direction the boys had gone in, “They’ve been saying shit like that all year. It’s atrocious; we shouldn’t have to put up with it.” 

“Yeah,” Clawdeen repeated, not really hearing her, “I...I have to get going. T-Thanks for letting me see your work, again.” 

She finally turned away from the vampiress  before she could respond and started walking towards the double doors, where everyone else was heading out.  She tried not to notice that the group of boys who’d cat-called her just seconds ago were now leaning against the lockers by the door, all of them obviously staring in her direction and grinning at her. 

She tried not to notice how she could feel them undressing her with her eyes. 

Outside, the students flooding out from the doors  quickly  dispersed  in different directions based on how they’d planned on getting home. Some headed towards the student parking lot for their own vehicles, while others walked along the sidewalks to get on the buses. Clawdeen joined the ranks of those waiting around in the area classified as the student drop-off/pick-up zone for those whose parents drove them around. 

L eaning the small concrete wall that formed a half-circle around the flagpole, Clawdeen watched absentmindedly as various cars pulled up to the curb and  the kids who were waiting along with her rushed over to them, quickly getting in and taking off so the next cars in line could either take off or pull up and wait. She looked up  to the entrance, trying to spot Howie’s car, since he was the one who was supposed to pick her up today. 

All around her, the other kids left the waiting area, and one by one, cars came into the drop-off zone and left. The buses started up and began taking off, and slowly, the front area of Monster High began to empty. 

Clawdeen frowned. Something was off. She checked her phone; fifteen minutes had gone by, and still not sign of Howie. 

Pulling up his number, she decided to call him.  The college wasn’t that far from the high school. 

After a few rings, Clawdeen heard him finally pick up. There was a lot of noise going on in the background. 

“ _Hello?”_ Howie answered. 

“Hey, where are you?” Clawdeen asked, looking out over the road in front of the school, “I’m waiting right out front.” 

“ _You’re- shit!”_ Howie exclaimed, “ _Oh crap, Deen, I’m sorry! I completely forgot I was supposed to pick you up. Fuck, I completely forgot you started classes with us today.”_

“It’s okay. Just come right now,” Clawdeen insisted, noticing how more and more people began to leave the school, leaving her and only a couple more waiting out front. 

“ _I can’t,”_ Howie answered, guilt evident in his tone, “ _Since it slipped my mind, I agreed to meet up with my lab partner for chemistry so we could finish our experiment, since our report’s due in a few days. This is the only time we can meet up if we don’t want it to be late. I’m sorry, I won’t be done for at least a couple of hours.”_

Clawdeen felt her heart sink. If Howie couldn’t pick her up, she had no other way of getting home. The last buses were all leaving and she didn’t know if their routes went anywhere near her neighborhood. Their parents were working, and everyone else was in class. It would take her a good hour to walk home. 

“ _If you need me to, I could tell her that and just come back,”_ Howie insisted. 

“No, no, it’s fine,” Clawdeen said, “I’ll...figure something out.” 

“ _You sure?”_ Howie asked, sounding doubtful. 

“Yeah,” Clawdeen said, “That report sounds really important and you promised her. It would only cause more trouble to have to keep her waiting and make you go back and forth.” 

“ _Oh...okay,”_ Howie said, “ _I’m really sorry, Clawdeen. I really didn’t mean to forget.”_

“It’s okay. The city bus shouldn’t be far from here, I’ll just take that,” Clawdeen assured him. 

“ _Okay. Love you.”_

“You, too,” Clawdeen said, before she ended the call. 

She shuffled around in her purse to pull out her wallet, hoping she had enough cash to take the bus. When she opened it up, however, Clawdeen saw she only had a dollar and a two quarters in her coin purse. The only other change she had were pennies. 

“Fuck,” Clawdeen hissed, looking out front with a frustrated expression. She definitely didn’t have enough money for a ticket. 

She started bouncing her leg anxiously, trying to ponder her options. Part of her considered calling Howie or someone else in the family back to come pick her up. But she had just told Howie it was fine, and Clawd and Laura were working. It didn’t seem fair to ask them to leave in the middle of their shifts to just come take her home and drop her off. 

Clawdeen looked down at her shoes with a grimace. She was wearing a pair of purple suede ankle boots that had gold spikes running down the heels that Nino had got her for Cryptmas. While certainly not as uncomfortable to walk in as a regular pair of high heels would be, she doubt they were great for walking the six miles that lay between her house and here, especially because she was still needing to break them in. 

Her shoulders dropping in defeat, Clawdeen sighed and dug in her purse for her diePod, deciding she had no other choice but to take the last option and hope her feet wouldn’t be too blistered tomorrow. 

She was about to start walking along the sidewalk, when a gray car pulled up beside her and the passenger window rolled down. 

“Clawdeen?” 

She looked over at the car in surprise. Romulus was leaning forward from the driver’s seat to look up at her, his brows raised at her inquisitively. 

“Rom? What are you doing here?” Clawdeen asked. 

“I had to come pick up some transcripts. You all right?” Romulus asked, “You looked a little stressed out just now.” 

Clawdeen sighed, “Howie was supposed to come pick me up, but he forgot and now he can’t make it. Everyone else is busy and I don’t have enough money for the bus.” 

Romulus said, “Well, then, you want a ride? I could drop you off ‘fore I get home.” 

“You, you’d do that?” Clawdeen asked. 

“Of course,” Romulus smiled, “I mean, maybe I just don’t know much about fashion and stuff, but something tells me those boots _aren’t_ made for walking. At least, long distance.” 

That got a smile from Clawdeen. She nodded and opened the passenger door of his car. Romulus leaned over to clear the seat for her, depositing his messenger bag on the floor on the backseat and swiping some other miscellaneous items onto the floor. 

“Thanks, Rom,” Clawdeen said, sliding into the seat and closing the door, “I’ll pay you back next time I go to the ATM.” 

“There’s no need to,” Romulus said, “Just consider this a bit of common courtesy from an old friend.” 

He put on his turn signal and checked in the rearview to make sure no other cars were passing, before he took his foot off the break and pressed on the gas. He stopped at the sign, before making a right and turning onto the main road. 

“This is nice,” Clawdeen commented, looking around the interior of the car. It looked like it was a model from the nineties, maybe even the early two-thousandths. And it was at least clean for a guy’s car, “You trade this from that Mustang?” 

Romulus nodded, slowing down at the roundabout, “It was nice, but the two years or so of its line, it became a real piece of crap. Nothing could fix it, not a new engine, changing the oil, replacing the coolant- nada. Then one day the battery finally died and wouldn’t start again. I traded it for scrap metal and found this on Creepslist.”

Going through the roundabout, he pulled into the left lane. Leaning back in his seat, he turned towards Clawdeen with a curious look. 

“So, how have _you_ been?” he asked, “First day go okay?” 

Clawdeen paused. She then shrugged, leaning back against her seat as she stared out the windshield, watching as the bare branches of the trees shifted in the breeze, some of their twigs still heavy with the snow from a few days ago. 

“Yeah, it was fine,” she said, “A little bit boring. Already have tons of homework to do. You know how it is when vacation ends and the quarter starts again- it barely starts and already you’re swamped.” 

She sank down into her seat, staring off into space. She sighed heavily, like there was something weighing greatly on her mind. Romulus tilted his head at her, noting the faint sadness he could see in her eyes. 

“What is it?” he asked. 

Clawdeen just gave him another shrug, before she replied a moment later. 

“Nothing,” she responded, “I’m just...frustrated. You know, by the fact that I still have to come here and do all this and everyone else is...moving forward already.” 

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I mean, at least back then I had everyone to see and catch up with. Today, I didn’t know anyone. And some of them...they kept staring at me. It made me feel like such a freak...” 

Clawdeen trailed off and looked down at her lap, fiddling with one of the bangles on her wrist. It was probably a tired subject by now, but she couldn’t get over it. It was so unfair; she should’ve been up there with her friends- going to college, getting a degree, having maybe even a high paying job by now. Instead, she was left behind. All these milestones, she’d have to complete on her own. 

Moments like this made the reality of just how long she’d been gone weigh on her heavily. Clawdeen swallowed hard; the way those boys in the hallway had talked to her hadn’t helped in the slightest. 

She thought that she’d finally be able to escape those kinds of comments once she left DC. Those and all those slimy looks that made her feel like she was just a piece of meat for the men who wore them to devour. How stupid she was, to think that those kinds of men only existed in one place. 

Romulus frowned, seeing the pain in her expression. Slowly, he reached over and gently rested a hand on her shoulder. Clawdeen turned and looked up at him; the heartbroken look in her eyes pained him greatly. 

“Hey,” he said softly, “Don’t let yourself get caught up in that. It’s not your fault that you didn’t get to finish when you wanted, and you shouldn’t be ashamed of that. No matter how old you are, or what happened, at least you _are_ able to get it after all, right?” 

“I...I guess,” Clawdeen said. 

“Besides, there’s plenty of students who probably feel the same way you do,” Romulus said, “You don’t think Draculaura, or Cleo, or any of the people we know who have more than a few notches on their belt felt the same way? Hell, I know if they had their way, plenty of the humans would have something to say about the fact that a ghoul who literally owned one of the very first cars was still attending high school with a bunch of teens in the twenty-first century.” 

Clawdeen smirked, remembering said story that Draculaura had relayed to them one night coming home from a game. Romulus grinned, grateful that he was able to get such a response out of her. His face quickly became neutral, though, as he thought of the other comment she had made, the one about people staring at her. 

“Look, Clawdeen,” he said, more serious this time, “I’m not going to sit here and tell you some bullshit about ‘oh, you shouldn’t care what people think’ or just be yourself because we both know that’s just shit people who’ve never known what it’s like to be the odd one out say. Especially someone in your position; you’ve been through _a lot_ of shit, it’s only natural you’re apprehensive of the way people treat you now. 

“All I’m gonna say, though, is that you have a lot to bring to the table. Way more than some of these burnouts could even fathom,” Romulus explained, “And none of them, or whatever prissy girls or jerkoff little boys should be able to make you feel otherwise.” 

He said it with such sincerity that it caught Clawdeen off guard. She regarded him with surprise, but there was nothing but honest truth in the silver wolf’s eyes. It made her blush, actually, at his words. Clawdeen looked away from him. 

“I mean it,” Romulus said, “You always knew what you wanted and when you wanted to get it, you did what you had to get it, no matter what the trouble or how long it took. You knew from early on what you wanted to do, and steadily you worked your way to get to it, which is a hell of a lot more than I could say for most people our age. I’ve always admired that about you; you value hard work and you’re willing to do if it means the ultimate payoff.” 

Now Clawdeen was convinced he was just trying to be nice to her. She pressed her chin against her collarbone as she looked down at her lap, smiling bashfully. Her face felt so red, she swore she probably looked like she was running a high fever. 

“...Thank you,” she said softly. 

“No problem,” Romulus said with a smile, “And, if it ever gets really bad and you need some of these assholes to be taught a lesson? You know my number.” 

That made Clawdeen smirk. “What? I can’t do it myself?” 

“Sure you can, if you want,” Romulus joked, “Just saying, I’m only one call away.” 

The damper Clawdeen felt on her mood immediately was lifted as she shook her head with pretend-disbelief. “You’re sweet, Rom.” 

“I try.” 

Clawdeen felt another blush come onto her cheeks. Her eyes trailed down to the floor of his car, trying to avoid him seeing it; there were some textbooks lying at her feet. She tilted her head in curiosity at one of the titles of them and reached down to get a better look at it. 

“Why do you have a textbook about Dutch?” Clawdeen asked, lifting up the heavy book to sit in her lap. 

Romulus answered, “It was part of my graduation requirements to take a language course. I’m also going to Denmark in a few months for my Master’s program, so I figured it would probably be helpful if I could communicate with the other administrators and not always have to rely on a translator.” 

Clawdeen glanced up. “Really? All the way to Denmark? What are you studying?” 

“Werewolf history,” Romulus answered, “Particularly, I’m focusing on indigenous werewolf tribes of Scandinavia and their cultural history prior to the first contact between vikings and Anglo Saxon humans in the eighth century.” 

“Wow,” she said, “That sounds...really specific and difficult.” 

Romulus just shrugged, “Eh, it’s not so bad, once you know what resources to look for. A big part of understanding history is that you really have to amp up your research skills  to figure what exactly you’re looking for and how to access that information.” 

Clawdeen nodded; she was only ever average in history, so she was going to just take his word for it. “Well, I hope you find a lot of cool things about these tribes. Make sure you send me a postcard from Denmark.” 

“I will,” Romulus said with a grin, “If you promise to write, that is.” 

That made Clawdeen quirk up an eyebrow at him. “You want me to?” 

“Sure. It will be nice, considering I’ll be all by myself up there,” Romulus said. 

He got a look on his face like he knew some great secret he wanted to spill. He leaned in close to Clawdeen. “Plus, I need to stay updated on all the gossip.” 

Clawdeen sputtered with laughter and shoved his shoulder. “You’re so dumb,” she said, giggling, “And you and the boys love to say you all hate the drama.” 

“I never said that,” Romulus defended, “ I just hate when the drama has to involve  _ me. _ ” 

“Sure you do,” Clawdeen joked. 

They  continued to make casual conversation as Romulus drove. He told Clawdeen about his current internship at the public library and all the weird reading materials people checked out, which made her laugh. Clawdeen told him about what her family had been doing in the days leading up to today, like how Draculaura, Howleen, and her had gone to the salon, or how the boys had made her sit down and watch the whole Scare Wars series with them, before they went and saw the newest one in theaters. Clawdeen hadn’t liked it. 

“Me neither,” Romulus said, making a turn, “The one before that came out a few years ago was good, but after that the series really takes a nosedive.” 

“That’s what I was trying to say,” Clawdeen said, “And what the hell was with that romance? Rocks kept insisting that I just ‘couldn’t understand the story’ whatever that means.” 

Romulus smirked at her expression. Finally, they reached the driveway of the Wolf house. Romulus pulled to a stop and pressed on the brake. He turned to Clawdeen. 

“Well, I guess this is where I bid you adieu,” he said. 

Clawdeen smiled as she started to gather up her things. “Thanks again, Rom. You really didn’t have to do this.” 

“Aw,  come on. I’m just looking out for my home ghoul,” Romulus said, waving her off. 

“Even so,” Clawdeen said, “Thanks. And...thanks for what you said, back there. I needed it.” 

At that, Romulus smiled at her softly. “Anytime.” 

Gathering up her bag and her purse, Clawdeen undid her seatbelt and got out. She closed the door behind her and walked up to her porch; as she got to the front door, she turned to see that he was still there, watching her. Clawdeen waved at him. Romulus waved back. 

This time, she watched him as he pulled away from the curb and started to drive; as he finally disappeared around the corner, she pulled out her house keys and let herself in. 

Inside, the sextuplets were already home, all of them gathered  around the living room as they did their homework. Weredith and Packlynn were sitting beside them, working on some coloring books. Pawla looked up as Clawdeen walked in. 

“Hi!” she said, “How was it?” 

Clawdeen shed her coat and hung it up on the coat rack, shrugging as she did so. “Meh.”

“Yeah, me  too,” Pawla said with a smile, “Our teacher is already making us read three chapters for tomorrow of our book report. And a whole packet of math problems.” 

She grabbed the stapled pile of paper in front of her and held it up for Clawdeen to see. “It’s only the first day! Why do we need this much the first day?” 

Clawdeen smirked, “I’ll tell you why: Because teachers are evil and many of them only want to see you suffer.” 

“That’s what I said,” Snarland commented, copying down something from the dictionary he had opened onto a sheet of paper. 

That got a chuckle from the older she-wolf. Clawdeen took her shoes off- now, she was super thankful that Romulus happened to be there, as even after sitting down most the day, her feet still ached from the new shoes- and headed over the kitchen. She  grabbed a snack cake from the pantry and opened the fridge to pull out a can of soda, before she gathered them up with her backpack. 

“I’m going to head upstairs to do my homework,” she announced to the kids, “Can I trust you all can behave yourselves until Mom and Dad get home?” 

“We will,” they all replied. 

She looked down at the twins. They didn’t even seem to notice she was there, the two of them way too engrossed with trying to color inside the lines of their coloring pages.  Right now, Weredith particularly seemed focus on trying to neatly make the mastodon on the page bright green; Clawdeen raised a brow at her, amused at seeing the other random splashes of crayon that marked the page. 

“Okay,” she said with confirmation, before she turned and headed up the stairs. 

Closing the door to her room , Clawdeen let her bags drop to the floor and let out a sigh of relie f, thankful to be back in her own space once again. She changed her clothes into a more comfortable pair of lounge pants and a t-shirt, before she sat at her desk and pulled out her Dead Languages notebook. 

She popped the tab on her  soda  can and took a swig before she began to work on the assigned problems in her textbook.  She put her headphones in and listened to her diePod as she worked, the sweet cheerful sounds of pop and indie rock helping to wash out the silence. 

Today wasn’t much of what she could call a good day. 

It wasn’t the worst day, but certainly not a good one. 

Whatever kind of day you’d qualify it as, it was one she wanted to be over already. 

Though, admittedly, the conversations she’d had with Hellamy and Romulus did help her feel like it wasn’t a totally shitty one. 

It was...an okay day. 

Yeah, that’s what it was.  Sometimes, that’s all it had to be. 

An okay day. 


	15. Chapter 14: Six Degrees of Separation

Up in her bedroom, Clawdeen sat at her desk, working on her Dead Languages homework. She had her textbook and a Ghoulish to English dictionary flipped open on either side of her, while her laptop lay open on an automatic translator out in front of her. Clawdeen growled as she struggled to translate the sentence on her paper; Mr. Rotter currently had them working on figures of speech and actions, so their current assignment for tonight as a combination of multiple choice questions of the correct grammar format and translating sentences from one language to another. 

Considering Ghoulish wasn’t that complex of a language- in many ways, it was very similar to the romance languages- and that she had taken his prior classes with relatively no difficulty, it should’ve been easy for Clawdeen to get this kind of work done. 

However, _also_ considering she hadn’t been in Mr. Rotter’s class for years, the werewolf found that, just like a few of her other classes, she was having great trouble getting through even the most simple of sentences, having forgotten most of what she had learned previously. What should’ve taken her only about thirty minutes or so now was an hour just to get through half the problems. 

“ _Stega,”_ Clawdeen muttered to herself, grabbing the translation dictionary, “ _Stega,_ like _‘Vega’,_ but it refers to…‘bow’, like the action, instead of the ribbon thing...” 

Flipping through the dictionary to the section containing words beginning with s, Clawdeen trailed a claw down the page, until she came to the word she was looking at. 

She was wrong. She had gotten the two Ghoulish words mixed up. 

“Fuck,” Clawdeen muttered, letting the dictionary fall shut and tossing it back onto her desk in frustration. She bent over her worksheet and scribbled in what she thought was the right answer. 

Sitting back in her chair, her eyes roamed the page. She still had five more problems to do, and she’d already been at this since dinner.  And she still had homework from her monsterpology class to get done. 

Glancing at the clock, Clawdeen let out a sigh at the time and rubbed at her eyes.  _Looks like it’ll be a late night study this time,_ she thought to herself, seeing how late it already was. 

She could’ve just put some of it off for tomorrow  since it was the weekend , but she wanted to be caught up so she didn’t have to worry about it  then . It was just a small bit of luck that she had the room all to herself tonight, since Howleen was spending the night at Twyla’s. 

Resigning herself to the sleep she was bound to lose tonight, Clawdeen leaned back and stretched her arms above her head, groaning as she managed to crack her back, before she stood up from her chair. If she was going to stay up late, she needed to get some extra fuel in the form of a snack. 

Opening her door, Clawdeen started for the stairs, intent on getting a pop from the fridge. As she started to descend the first few steps, however, she suddenly paused as she heard her father let out a vicious snarl of frustration. 

Clawdeen paused right where she was, her hand on the bannister, her left foot hanging in mid air from where she was about to place it on the next step. 

Down near the kitchen, she could hear her parents talking. From the angry tone of her father’s voice it wasn’t good. 

“...another damn recess,” Clawrk was in the middle of saying, “What are they going to do, just find every fucking thing that can just barely be defined as a bias and push the entire fucking thing until the goddamn statue of limitations expires?!” 

“I don’t know,” Harriet replied wearily, “Believe me, it’s pissing me off, too. I don’t get how it could be _this_ hard to just get through it and get a sentence.” 

Clawdeen  hesitated. She immediately became alert at the topic of conversation. She looked down at the bend in the stairs; from where she was, her parents were still out of sight, but she could see the edge of their shadows moving around. 

S lowly, so as to not make any movement that could alert them to her presence and hoping her scent wasn’t too strong from her position, she sunk down onto the top step and sat, her hands laced together and resting between her knees. Clawdeen kept her gaze on the bend in the stairs as she eavesdropped. 

“Those fucking bastards,” Clawrk growled, “Those _selfish, disgusting, rat-faced_ bastards. By this point, I have a fucking mind to buy a ticket up there just so I can find them at the jail and fuck them all up myself.” 

Clawdeen jumped as somewhere in the kitchen, something suddenly slammed down hard onto the counter top. It sounded like a metal pot of some sorts. 

“I just want to fucking kill them all,” Clawrk continued, his voice laced with a dark, murderous undertone that Clawdeen didn’t recognize, even at the memory at her father’s most angriest, “I want to tear them limb from limb. I want to smash his fucking head in, I want-” 

Harriet cut in, her voice much more soothing and relaxed, “I know, baby. Look at me-  _I know.”_

A few beats of silence passed, before Clawdeen heard her dad let out a loud, weary sigh. 

“I don’t get why the judge is allowing this,” he said, “What about what all these delays do for _us?_ For Clawdeen? How long is she going to allow them to drag this shit out? 

“I just-” he cut himself off for a second, like he was trying to hold something in, “When will ever be over for us, finally? When can we move on with _our_ lives? All we need is for these fucking guys to just get put away. Right now, that’s all we fucking want.” 

“I don’t know, baby,” Harriet admitted. 

Silence fell from below. Clawdeen could hear the two of them moving from the creak of the floorboards, before she could slightly pick up on the sound of rustling fabric. It seemed that her parents had moved in closer to hug one another. 

Clawdeen bit her lip, a sinking feeling brewing in her stomach. She anxiously picked at her cuticles. 

_ Another  _ delay in the trial? Why? 

It had already been three months since it started, yet, from what she’d been told, there had still been no progress. Just drama and recess after recess. 

Archie had told them they had enough evidence for it to be pretty much open and shut, yet there seemed to be no end in sight for it. 

Obviously, Aran and his lawyers were going to do whatever they can to keep the jury from reaching a decision. 

When was enough going to be enough? Why couldn’t he just accept that he did wrong and accept his punishment? Why did he have to keep dragging her through this, didn’t he care that Clawdeen wanted to move on? 

She pursed her lips. Of course he didn’t. She was foolish for even entertaining such a thought. 

Hanging her head, Clawdeen ran her hands through her hair in stress. She just wanted to move on. She just wanted to feel safe again. 

She just wanted to know that Aran wouldn’t be able to hurt her again. Was that really too much to ask for? 

Quietly, she stood up from the step.  Instead of heading down to the kitchen like she initially planned, however, Clawdeen turned around and headed back to her room. 

She tried to study further, but she couldn’t focus, all the words blurring together as she became consumed with the thoughts of the trial’s delay. Sighing, Clawdeen closed her book and put her homework back in her bag for now.

She was tired. She just wanted to go to sleep. 

Yet, even as she  pulled off her clothes and  crawled under the covers, Clawdeen knew that this was one night her request wouldn’t be granted.  S uch was proven true  later, when she stayed up half the night just staring at the bottom of the top bunk, Aran and the trial’s delay at the forefront of her mind, refusing to leave and give her any peace. 

* * *

The next morning, Clawdeen sat on the couch with Weredith and Packlynn, mindlessly watching an episode of a preschool cartoon with them. Clawdeen wasn’t really paying attention to what was going on, though; more so, she was just barely registering the brightly colored characters and sounds, distracted by the thoughts of what she had heard last night. 

Yet another delay in the trial. How long were Aran and them going to keep this up? Did they plan on just pushing the sentencing back as long as they could, until the judge finally gave up or some other loophole allowed them to have it all thrown out, or what? 

Trepidation brewed in her stomach like a bubbling cauldron. Part of her now started to doubt her decision to not testify. 

Maybe if she had gotten the guts to get up on the stand, despite whatever she may have felt facing Aran, she could’ve helped this be over with sooner…

Before she could dwell further on this self-doubt and second guessing of her decisions, however, Clawdeen was brought out of her thoughts at the sound of the front door opening. She and the twins turned away from the TV to see Clawrk and Nino entering, their hands full of groceries. Nino’s head was bent as he rifled through the mail. 

“Could you help us get stuff out of the car?” Clawrk asked, shooting a look to Clawdeen. 

“Sure,” Clawdeen said, getting up from the couch. She smoothed down her blouse and helped Weredith and Packlynn get down, before she turned towards the front parlor to go put her shoes on. 

Heading into the kitchen, Clawrk and Nino placed the bags they had on the counter, before Clawrk headed back into the parlor to get more. Nino took a moment to resume looking through the mail, tossing envelopes that were irrelevant to him onto the counter. 

With her back to him as she slipped on a pair of flats, Clawdeen failed to see the way he suddenly paused as he flipped to one envelope. His thick brows furrowed in confusion. 

“Hey, Deen, you’ve...you’ve got a letter,” Nino said. 

Clawdeen turned back to him, her brows raised with surprise. Nino lifted his head and gave her a look, before he took something off the pile and held it out to her. 

She looked down. It was a purple envelope, her name and address inscribed on the back in what looked to be glittery blue pen ink. Clawdeen took it slowly. The handwriting was neat, curly q’d font. Clawdeen frowned; she didn’t recognize anyone who wrote like that. 

Nino looked at her. “Who’s it from?” 

“I...don’t know,” Clawdeen said, flipping the envelope over. 

There was no return address. The only hint that revealed where the envelope’s contents came from was the stamp which was printed with the flag of South Carolina. 

“Hey, what’s taking you guys so long?” Clawrk asked as he came back into the kitchen, his arms full with paper bags; Weredith and Packlynn came toddling behind him, each carrying a small bag, “We still have-” 

He cut himself off at the sight of the letter in Clawdeen’s hands. His eyes roamed up to her, his expression turning into a questioning one. 

“What’s that?” he asked. 

Nino answered, “It’s a letter for her. It doesn’t say from who, though...” 

Clawdeen stayed staring at the envelope. She flipped it over again, looking once more at the fancy handwriting. Her brows furrowed. 

Frowning, she finally turned it back over to the sealed side and cut through it with her claws, opening the envelope. Inside was a folded up piece of notebook paper and what seemed to be a few polaroids. Clawdeen pulled it out and unfolded it, skimming at whatever was written on the other side. 

Her eyes widened. She stopped skimming and glanced back up at the top of the letter, this time slowly reading it from the very beginning. Clawrk and Nino slowly started moving towards her, noting the way her hands clenched in the paper suddenly. 

_ Clawdeen,  _

_ Apologies for popping this on you out of nowhere and for possibly freaking you the hell out if you get this. If it means anything, don’t worry, I didn’t cyberstalk you or track down your social media or whatever. I remembered on the news that you were from somewhere in Oregon, so I tracked down your last name in that area in White Pages. Hopefully the ‘Wolf’ living there is the correct one.  _

_ Don’t think of this as me attempting to try and maintain contact with you or the others, but rather a breaking of ties. I’m sorry if you want differently, but I realize for my own sake, if I’m ever going to be able to claim an unlife for my own, then I need to finally face some demons and put things to rest. If you feel the same- well, then I’m sorry for disrupting whatever situation you may find yourself in. But please understand that I couldn’t keep going on until I at least said something, finally got everything off my chest. After this, expect no more responses for me. Please, don’t try to write me, either. I want a fresh start, away from everything and anything that reminds me of all that lost time.  _

_ I’m sorry I was such a bitch to you all those times in DC. You didn’t do anything wrong. I was bitter and angry at the world for this sorry, fucked-up excuse of an unlife I’d been dealt up until the last few months and forced to hold it all in, and I ended up taking it out on you and the others. That wasn’t fair and you didn’t deserve that. Aran and Grady are the ones who manipulated us and abused us, they’re the ones I should be furious with, and I am. You and I were in the same boat, and I should’ve been more understanding of you.  _

_ I also apologize for just packing up and hitching it out of there without telling you or seeing you one last time. Please understand, though, that I couldn’t wait one minute longer. That city had brought me nothing but pain and misery for ten years, and now that I finally had a way out, I needed to get out of there as soon as possible. I was also used to people not caring about where I went, so there’s that.  _

_ You don’t need to worry about me, though. The first few weeks were rough admittedly, but I miraculously was able to get into contact with my mom’s half-sister. I’m still getting the full story, but I guess her and my mom had a falling out and they haven’t been on speaking terms for pretty much longer than before I was born. However, when I finally talked to her, she welcomed me with open arms. As it turns out, she’s a social worker and actually runs a foster house with her wife.  _

_ I’ve finally found a place where, for the first time, I actually feel like I belong. I feel at home in a way I don’t think I’ve ever met, and truly, I think I can finally start to heal from everything that I’ve been through. I’m still pretty fucked up and have days that I feel like all of this is for naught, but I’ve met the most wonderful people and day by day, I’m discovering things about myself that I never knew. Or maybe I did, but Grady and all them made me think I was too stupid to keep doing them. Either way, I have seen I can do several things that I never imagined I had the skill for, and am learning so much about myself that I can confidently say that I’m starting to see me for who I am. Not who Grady wanted, or my mom, or the rest of those cowardly sick fucks. Me.  _

_ In case you don’t believe me, I’ve also attached some photographs. Do with them what you will, but I thought it would help to put your mind at ease and let you know I’m fine.  _

_ Keep your head up, Clawdeen. I know we both have a long road ahead of us, but remember that, in spite of all odds and all that they tried to tell us, we made it out alive. We were one of the lucky ones, and no matter what those bastards may say in that trial, they can never take that fact away from us. It’s going to be rough, but we survived worse and we can survive this. We will. _

_ Best of wishes, forever and always,  _

_ Kaimana Seager (you may remember me as “Shelby”)  _

Clawdeen re-read that last part over and over again, as if needing to make sure she read it correctly. She read the sea monster’s name several times, tracing the letters, letting it soak in.

Adjusting the letter in her grip, she looked at the photographs that had been contained inside. Portrayed in them was Shelby, looking happy and healthy and smiling in a way that Clawdeen had only ever seen once in the entire time she had known the sea monster. It made her look like she was glowing. The photographs portrayed her in a variety of settings: Shelby sitting with several other monster girls at a picnic table out in what looked to be the desert; Shelby and some of those same girls standing in front of a Cryptmas tree, Shelby with an older sea monster woman who looked just vaguely similar to her. 

It was looking at a changeling. Shelby looked relaxed and joyful, and though there was a noticeable hint of tiredness in her eyes, she looked as radiant and lovely as ever. 

She looked _happy_. 

Clawdeen looked over the photographs again, taking in the scenes, before glancing back at the paper. Her thumb reached out to gently rub against the departure of the letter, feeling where the pen had dug into the paper. 

_ We survived worse. We can survive this.  _

She didn’t know how much that helped. Thousands of miles away, without any clue as to how the werewolf was doing or even knowing if her letter reached her, Shelby was helping her in more ways than Clawdeen thought the sea monster could ever imagine. 

Her throat suddenly became very tight and her eyes filled with tears. 

“Clawdeen?” Clawrk called out, his expression becoming concerned as he saw the way her face suddenly crumbled. Whatever Clawdeen had read in that letter, now she looked like she was about to cry. 

“Sis?” Nino said, equally worried. He slowly walked up to her and stood at her side, his hand cautiously touching her shoulder. 

Clawdeen didn’t respond to either of them. She just closed her eyes and brought the photos and letter up to her nose, letting the tears fall as she recalled Shelby’s- Kaimana’s- words. Her breath hitched as she let out as a sudden small sob; her tears began to soak into the paper. 

Clawrk came up to her other side, now worried about her reaction. “Clawdeen?” 

“Don’t cry, Deenie,” Weredith said, shuffling up to her sister and hugging her leg, “Don’t be sad.” 

Packlynn joined her and reached up to try and grasp Clawdeen’s waist. She stood up on her tip-toes and pressed her cheek against her sister’s hip as she got her in a somewhat awkward sideways hug. 

“It’s okay,” she said. 

Clawdeen sniffed and lifted her head, finally opening her eyes. She rubbed at her cheeks and nose, before she glanced down at the twins and smiled, putting a hand on their heads. 

“I-I-I’m okay,” she said assuredly, “S-Seriously, I am. I j-just got a little bit overwhelmed for a second...” 

She looked up at her dad and brother, sniffling. Clawrk put his hands on her shoulders and turned her towards him, his caramel colored eyes looking down at her with worry. 

“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” he asked, one hand cupping her cheek, wiping away a stray tear. 

Clawdeen smiled and pulled away from her him. “Nothing’s wrong,” she said, “I mean it, I’m fine. Better now, actually, now that I got this.” 

She gestured to the letter in her hands. Nino frowned at her. 

“But _who_ wrote you that?” he asked. 

Clawdeen turned to face him. She held it and the photographs close to her chest, not wanting either of them to see it. It was a private exchange meant solely for her and Shelby, something that only they could really understand. 

“A friend,” was all Clawdeen said, giving him a small, but genuine smile, “A friend of mine from...a while ago.” 

Nino seemed to understand well enough; realization seemed to dawn on him, as his eyes widened and something flickered in them. A moment, later, though, they softened, and he just gave her a small nod. 

“Well, if it’s not anything bad,” Clawrk spoke up, “Then how about we get to unloading the rest of these groceries? I have freezer stuff and I don’t want it to melt.” 

“Right,” Nino replied. He immediately turned on his heel and headed back towards the front door, which still lay open. 

As he stepped out, he called over his shoulder to the twins, “Yo, ankle biters! How about you lend me a hand?” 

“Okay,” Weredith and Packlynn called in unison, both of them breaking off from Clawdeen to follow him. 

Weredith shot Clawdeen a small look over her shoulder as they toddled out, but when Clawdeen just nodded at her, she shrugged it off, seemingly already brushing off the little episode her sister had just had. 

As they disappeared down the front porch, Clawrk turned back to her and gave her another look of unease. 

“Are you actually okay?” he asked his daughter softly, “If something’s bothering you, you know you can talk to me, right?” 

“I know, Dad,” Clawdeen said softly, “I swear, I’m okay. I just got reminded of someone. Someone that...that I miss.” 

She gestured to the letter. “I’m going to go put this away, and I’ll be right back.” 

That seemed to pacify Clawrk. He gave her a curt nod, though he kept regarding her like he was trying to analyze her. After a moment, he put his hand on the back of her head and gently pulled her towards him, where he lay his lips on her forehead. Clawdeen smiled, appreciating the gesture. 

“Okay, my love,” Clawrk said, “Just don’t take too long.” 

Clawdeen replied that she wouldn’t and parted from him. She quickly jogged up the stairs with the letter, envelope, and photographs in her hand. 

She made her way to her bedroom and turned to her nightstand. Pausing in front of it, she took a moment to slip the photographs and letter back into the envelope, before she reached down and pulled the top drawer of her nightstand open and pushed aside all the miscellaneous objects she had in there. 

Sighing, Clawdeen looked back down at the envelope. She held it to her heart and closed her eyes, thinking back to the words she had just read. 

“Shelby,” she mumbled to herself, “Thank you.” 

Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes. She smiled again and slid the envelope into the bottom of her drawer. 

Once there, she gently patted it, like she was making sure it was snug in its position. Pulling her hand away, she then covered it with her old diaries and her box of personal photos. 

When it was finally covered- nobody else would see it if they pulled it open, allowing her to keep the one memento she had from her old friend private- Clawdeen slid the drawer closed. 

Giving it one last glance, she turned and headed back downstairs, knowing that it would be safe where it was. 

One day, she would discard them- not out of any malice or ill will, but, like the sea monster had said in her letter, a way to move on from the past, to not be constantly reminded of what had happened all these painful years beforehand.

Right now, though, before that day came, she would keep them safe, that way they could be a small beacon of assurance to her during these dark times until the day that would hopefully come, where the trial would be over and she close that chapter on her life for good. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, it's a pretty short chapter and there's not much going on, but the main focus was supposed to be the letter, and I felt like there really wasn't any other scene I could add afterward that wouldn't detract from it. The lack of progress with the trial may be tiresome to keep mentioning, but it is important for the events for the next chapter. 
> 
> Plus, I thought I'd at least give some peace of mind for Shelby's story, since I did end her role so abruptly in the previous story.


	16. Chapter 15: Light at The End of the Tunnel

“I have all your tests graded,” Mr. Rotter announced as he turned and faced the class, gesturing to the thick stack of white paper in his hands, “Some of you did well, and I commend you for your study efforts.

“For others,” he made a face, “I would suggest that you start having your texting habits fall more in line with typing in research on a computer document than having a silent chat with your beast friends.”

The class let out a chorus of groans as he started down the first aisle and rifled through his stack, pulling out tests and handing them to the students whom they belonged to; clearly, nobody was looking forward to seeing how harshly the old ghoul had graded them on their latest Dead Languages test.

Clawdeen, however, remained silent as she sat at her desk, though she cracked a small grin as she saw everyone’s reactions. Clearly, in the years that had passed, Mr. Rotter was still as stern and had as high expectations as he had been the first few years she’d been in his class.

She leaned her head on her elbow and turned her attention back to her desk, where she mindlessly doodled in the margins of her notebook, awaiting for the lesson to actually start.

“Not bad, Miss Swiftclaw,” Mr. Rotter narrated behind her as he passed back tests, “Always room for improvement, Mister Rogan. I expected better, quite frankly, Mister Howlett...”

Behind her, Clawdeen could hear the student in question mutter a few words less than polite words under his breath, but Mr. Rotter either didn’t hear him or was pretending not to notice.

She saw his shadow out of the corner of her eye, before a stapled white packet of paper was deposited in front of her on top of her notebook. Clawdeen reeled back slightly in surprise.

“Excellent work, Miss Wolf,” Mr. Rotter said, “It’s good to know there is _someone_ using their study time wisely in this class.”

Clawdeen looked down at her test. Her eyes widened. Marked at the top of her test above her name in bright red pen and circled was an A. Next to it, Mr. Rotter had written _Good Job_.

Her mouth fell open in shock. She flipped through the pages, seeing very few marks from where she had gotten points off, and looked back up at Mr. Rotter. He had his back turned to her, already moving on to giving the other students their papers back. Clawdeen glanced back down at her grade, still in disbelief.

An A. He’d given her an A? _Mr. Rotter,_ who was notorious for thinking that giving so much as a B+ was considered generous?

A quick glance to her left let her know the other students felt the same, as she caught a few of them giving her dirty looks, all of them obviously as having seen her grade or heard the rare compliment from Mr. Rotter.

Clawdeen just raised her brows at them and turned back to her test. As it settled on her what she was seeing, she couldn’t keep the big grin off that worked its way onto her burgundy painted lips.

 _And you know what? I freaking deserve it,_ she thought to herself as she spared another look at her grade. She had studied her ass off for this test; after the initial struggle she had at the beginning of the quarter with remembering previous material, she was determined to not let herself fall behind and practically spent the rest of the evening beforehand holed up in her room, her nose buried in her notes and textbook.

“Now that that’s done, I hope this gives you all the initiative to try a little bit harder,” Mr. Rotter said as he made his way back to the front of the classroom, “Lest you be content with less than average that therefore lessens your chance of getting into a good school and/or receiving a job whose pay you actually deserve more of.”

Turning his back them, he picked up his chalk and began writing the lesson today. Clawdeen perked up to attention; she took her test and tucked it away in her bag for now, deciding to have a closer look over it at lunch.

She sat through the rest of class with little complaint- save for the fact that, like Mr. Rotter’s other classes, the subject matter was as dull as a tomb of hibernating vampires- and took her notes. Finally, the bell rang, signaling the start of the lunch period.

Everyone let out a collective sigh, finally glad to have a free period (or at least finally be done with Mr. Rotter) for the day. As Mr. Rotter gave a last minute reminder that they were going to have a quiz in three days, everyone started to stand up and shove their things into their bags, before they all quickly made their way to the door.

“Clawdeen, wait a minute,” Mr. Rotter called out, “I want to speak with you for a second.”

Clawdeen raised her head, pausing as she slid her notebook into her bag. She looked around, seeing that most of the class had already left.

Three harpies passed by her; one of the snickered “Teacher’s pet,” under her breath, but loud enough that it was obvious she wanted Clawdeen to hear it. Clawdeen shot her an angry look over her shoulder.

As they left, her and Mr. Rotter remained the only ones in the room. Slowly, Clawdeen made her way to the ghoul teacher’s desk, her hand clutching the bag of her purse tightly. In front of her, Mr. Rotter sat, grading the next class’s homework assignments.

“Am...I in trouble for something?” Clawdeen asked, looking down at him.

Mr. Rotter shook his head, not looking up from his sheet, “Relax, Miss Wolf. I only want to give have a quick discussion with you about your current quarter.”

Clawdeen gave him a confused look. “Um...okay?”

Finally, after making one last mark on the homework in front of him, Mr. Rotter flipped the stack faced down and clicked his pen, before depositing back in his pen holder. He looked up at Clawdeen and folded his hands together in front of him.

“I just want to make sure that everything is going all right,” he said, “I know it can be a bit overwhelming to start school again after so long of going without an organized schedule or having to devote time to study and homework.”

Clawdeen shrugged, “I mean, it was, at first. But I’ve gotten, you know...used to it, I guess.”

Mr. Rotter nodded. The expression on his face was a bit unfamiliar. He lacked the familiar scowl or wide-eyed manic look that she was so used to. Now, to her surprise, Mr. Rotter actually seemed to be looking at her with what seemed to be concern.

“That’s good to hear,” Mr. Rotter said, “But please, do not hesitate to talk to me if you find you are having particular trouble paying attention or if the courseload is overwhelming you to the point of sever e stress. I will make any accommodation that is needed for you.”

In disbelief, Clawdeen’s brows went up to her hairline. Was Mr. Rotter actually being _nice_ to her?

It seemed like he was just joking. But with the way he was looking at her, he seemed to be completely serious with his statement.

Before she could stop herself, Clawdeen blurted out, “W-Why? I mean, I...wasn’t exactly your best student when I was, you know, younger...”

Mr. Rotter just shrugged. “That you weren’t,” he agreed, “But that doesn’t mean I don’t recognize when a student needs help for things that are simply out of their control. And considering the less-than-fortunate circumstances you’ve been dealt, I feel it would be unfair of me to expect you to be able to just jump right back in to the way things were before like your personal trauma didn’t matter.”

If she didn’t know any better, Clawdeen would’ve sworn she had to be talking to some kind of polar opposite of Mr. Rotter. Since when did _he_ go out on a limb to help his students?

As if reading her thoughts, Mr. Rotter smirked, “I know, I know, I have impossible standards and seem like I love getting my pleasures from purposefully failing students, but I assure you, this is not a joke. I do want to help you if something ever comes up and it truly becomes too much for you to handle.”

“Uh, o-okay, I will...” Clawdeen said, still a bit befuddled by the offer, “Th...thanks, Mr. Rotter. I guess...”

Mr. Rotter, still smiling, gave her a small nod of his head.

“I see a great amount of potential in you, Miss Wolf,” he said, “I saw it in your passion for your hobbies, and I see, it is still there somewhere. I would hate to see you fall short of meeting your aspirations in unlife because unreasonable shame kept you from asking for help.”

Clawdeen finally gave a grin of her own as she looked down at him.

“Well, that’s something I can definitely say I _won’t_ be getting an A on anytime soon,” she said with a big of dry humor, “Meeting my aspirations. Even with the extra help.”

Mr. Rotter, though, shrugged his shoulders. “I wouldn’t put yourself down so easily,” he said, “You _did_ just get an A on that exam, where everyone else on average got only about a seventy-three or less.”

She’d take that. Now a little less guarded, Clawdeen let her smile grow.

“Thanks, Mr. Rotter,” she said, “I really do appreciate it.”

“Of course,” the skeletal-faced teacher responded, “Now, go on. I know how much you all love to use lunch period to get all the ghostly gossip going around.”

“And I’m going to pretend that you didn’t mean to do any of that alliteration you just did,” Clawdeen added.

Mr. Rotter waved her off dismissively, “Oh, get going you. Before I start having second thoughts on that letter grade you received.”

Chuckling, Clawdeen turned towards the door and headed out, before she started for the direction of the creepateria. She was in good spirits as she made her way down the stairs, and a big smile was on her face.

This time, she didn’t even have to eat alone. Hellamy had invited her to sit at her table once she learned her and the werewolf had the same lunch period. Clawdeen initially had her reservations- especially considered _prior_ incidents- but decided to take the vampire off on the offer.

It was one lunch, after all. It didn't have to be more if she didn't want it to be, and it was better than being by herself all the time.

* * *

“Hey, Romulus sent us a package!” Howleen exclaimed as she entered through the door, her arms full with a telltale brown cardboard box, “Nino, come help me put this down.”

Clawdeen turned from where she sat the kitchen island, her notebook open in front of her while Harriet stood across from her bent over with her elbows on the surface. She had meant to be going over her notes, but she’d gotten distracted by something Harriet had said and had all but forgotten them as they engaged in conversation.

At the dining room table, the sextuplets looked up as Howleen and Nino came huffing through the doorway, the box between them as they struggled to set it down on the island. It didn’t seem big, but Nino’s arms were tight with exertion. They all perked up with excitement at the prospect of any potential gifts and immediately abandoned their homework to huddle around their older siblings.

“Oooh, ooh! Did he send _me_ anything?” Pawla asked as she craned her neck, trying to get a look at what was inside over Howleen’s shoulder.

“I wanna help open it!” Snarland exclaimed, trying to push through to the front to stand beside Nino, “Let me see!”

Howleen growled at them and shooed them away, standing protectively in front of the box as she shot the six of them a dirty look.

“Oi, get away!” she said, “It specifically says it’s for _me,_ Clawd, and Clawdeen! Keep your grubby paws off!”

Clawdeen turned around in her seat and looked at the box. She looked tilted her head at it as Howleen pulled open the drawer in the island and pulled out the box cutter.

“For me, too?” she repeated, “I wonder what he sent.”

“Me too,” Howleen said, grinning excitedly as she slit open the tape that sealed the top flaps of the box, “It must be something pretty good. It feels like this thing weighs a ton.”

She put the box cutter down and pushed back the box’s flaps. All of them leaned over the island as they peaked into the contents of the box. It didn’t seem very big- it was probably the size of a shoe box, or one for something bigger like a handbag- but as Howleen opened it up, they could see a variety of items stuffed inside, some of which was covered by packaging paper.

The items all had stickers on them, with either Clawdeen’s, Clawd’s, or Howleen’s names written on them.

“Holy shit!” Howleen proclaimed, her hands immediately diving into the box to start pulling out the packages, “Look at all this!”

She started pulling out random things and sorted them on the island according to her they were addressed to. Clawdeen raised her brows in surprise; clearly, when Romulus said he would send them some souvenirs from Denmark, he had decided to go all out. She couldn’t even imagine what kind of prices these things must’ve been, let alone how much they cost to ship internationally.

“That’s for Clawd and Lala,” Howleen said, depositing some decorative plates and mugs down on the counter, “This is obviously for _moi-”_

She set aside a box of Danish chocolates on the counter, before she dug her hand back in and pulled out a tin of cookies that had Copenhagen’s little mermaid statue printed on the front.

Nino attempted to open the lid and sneak one for himself. Taking her eyes off the box for only a second, Howleen lashed out and smacked his hand.

“Ouch!” Nino yelped, cradling his hand to his chest, “Okay, okay! Geez!”

“Man, he sent you all kinds of snacks,” Barker pouted as he saw the variety of treats his sister had received, “How come you get to enjoy all of this and we don’t?”

Clawdeen gave him a smirk that was only half-sympathetic. She said, “Well, when _you_ have a friend who moves halfway across the world and lives in a foreign country for a period of time so you can’t see them face to face for four years, then we’ll pout when you get all the goodies that we don’t.”

“Also,” Harriet reminded her younger pups with a small hint of sternness, “These are your sisters’ gifts. They get to decide what they do with them.”

“Speaking of which,” Howleen said, pulling something rectangular out of the box; she perked up and smiled as she held it out to Clawdeen, “You got something, too, ‘Deen.”

Clawdeen glanced down at what she was holding. It was a giant hardcover book; the title was in Danish, and on the cover were a bunch of monster women wearing some kind of outfit that consisted of white blouses, red or dark green bodices, and long red skirts. The author, seemingly, was someone by the name of “Ingolf Wintherr.”

Attached to the cover, as well, was a little pink sticky note. Clawdeen skimmed what was written on it.

‘ _Deen,_

_I saw this in the window of a bookstore a few blocks from the apartment I’m staying in and thought of you. It’s a book that goes through the history of fashion and traditional clothing in Danish monster women since the early twelfth century, when monster lives first started being documented._

_The text I know you probably don’t understand a word of, but I figured you’d like the pictures and maybe take a bit of inspiration from what you saw. Hope you like it._

_Best wishes,_

_Rom_

Clawdeen smiled softly as she re-read the note. She opened the book and flipped through some of the pages. Bright splashes of color and unique patterns sewn into what looked to be all kinds of fabric passed her by.

It was exactly the type of thing she used to like to look at whenever she struggled to come up with any new designs in her sketchbook. Romulus nailed it down to a T; affectionately, she stroked the front cover, feeling along the raised edges of the letters of the title.

Had she ever told him that she looked at stuff like this for inspiration before? If she had it had been a long time ago. It made her feel all nice and warm inside to think that he possibly remembered that after so long. Or that he just knew her better than she thought.

“Oh, he also sent you this,” Howleen said, holding out a letter to her. It was a postcard with a painting of Aarhus on it.

“Thanks,” Clawdeen said, taking it from her.

She slid it into the inner cover of her book and rested the latter on top of her notebook, before she turned back to look through the other goodies she received with Howleen.

A few hours later, an hour or so before she went to bed, she sent him an e-mail on the instant messenger she’d downloaded. She had looked it up and saw that the timezones between America and Europe were vastly different- where Romulus was, it was a full nine hours- so this hour was really the only small window of time she had to talk to him.

 _Thanx for the book,_ she wrote, _Definitely up my alley_

_Also, thanx for the postcard even tho you wrote nothing on it, lol_

She hit send. To her delight, a few seconds afterward, she could see the little grey loading bubble that indicated Romulus was typing out a message come up.

_Romulus: Lol, I told u I’d send u one, didn’t I?_

_Also, glad u liked it! I wanted to find something specific for u, Clawd, n Leena that I knew u each would like, and luckily it was the first thing I saw when I looked at the bookstore._

_(And also that shit cost me a fortune in postage, so b thankful on how I lavish u all :p)_

Clawdeen giggled. She typed back a response.

_Duly noted. I’ll b sure to send u a hat from Wailmart as compensation, lol (jk, jk)_

That got her Romulus sending her an angry face emoji as a reaction, which only made her laugh some more. She added another message.

_Don’t worry, I do luv it. I’ll b sure that it will come in handy whenever I feel like adding a bit of ‘foreign flare’ to the next hypothetical collection I come up with...if I ever get back into making things again, lol_

Her joyfulness deflated slightly as she typed out the last sentence. It was a fact that she was having a hard time dealing with- for the first time in forever, she was completely at a loss when it came to making new designs or craft projects.

She was completely dry, like a desert that hadn’t seen rain in thousands of years and thus had grown barren and cracked. If there was any creativity left in her, it had been buried under the mountain of trauma she’d accumulated.

A big part of her was worried that she’d never be able to find it again.

Before she could dwell on it further, though, Romulus typed out another response.

_If u do, I would love to see what u come up with, so make sure I get an invite to yur next fashion show ;)_

Clawdeen paused. Her brows went up to almost her hairline at the response. She put her hands back on her keyboard and replied to him.

_You...you really mean that?_

_Romulus: Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?_

A furious blush broke out on the she-wolf’s face. She stared at his reply, unable to think of a way to respond to it. Slowly, another smile came onto her soft features. He always seemed to know the things to say to cheer her up, or make her feel better.

She felt in a bit of good humor as she typed back, _Maybe….If u help me translate this book. There might be some passage on techniques or something that I may have to use to my advantage ;)_

_Romulus: Deen, plz nooooo_

Clawdeen chuckled and wrote out, _Guess you’ll just have to just have to wait till they hit the shelves like everyone else, then._

_Romulus: I’ve already had to read 2 textbooks in, like, 3 days for my thesis. Why u like to torture me :p lmao_

That got Clawdeen to reel her head back and let out a loud laugh. She replied with a winky face emoji.

Soon after, they changed subjects and chatted about other things. Romulus told her of the tourist destinations he’d gone too so far when he had time off from studying, while Clawdeen talked to him about how she was doing in school and how she had decided to hold off the dual enrollment for the community college until spring quarter, when she had better re-developed her study habits and schedule.

 _Rotter actually gave u an A?_ Romulus typed out, _ROTTER?!?!?! Damn, u must have been able to open your 3_ _rd_ _eye to get the subtext right or whatever the rest of us were missing, cuz I swear I’d sooner see hogs flying from the sky_

Clawdeen liked that he didn’t suggest that her grade was because Mr. Rotter felt bad for her or anything like that. She knew _damn_ well she’d studied her butt off for this test and she wasn’t about to have her hard work diminished.

They talked for a little while longer, before Romulus said he had to get to work, since it was a little past eight in the morning where he was. Clawdeen told him goodbye; she had to be getting to bed anyway.

She slid under the covers and fell asleep with little difficulty. This time, no bad dreams followed her as she drifted away, and she woke up in peace the next morning.

* * *

Three days later found Clawdeen sitting in the living room, leaning against her dad as the two of them, along with Don and Howie, watched a sitcom on TV. Clawrk had her head resting against his shoulders, while he had an arm thrown around her under the blanket she was under.

“Dinner’s going to be ready in five minutes,” Harriet called from the kitchen. Clawdeen felt her stomach rumble as she smelled the taco meat that drifted in from the doorway.

“Okay,” her and the boys replied.

Suddenly, Clawrk’s phone rang on the coffee table. The two wolves glanced down at it. Clawdeen saw that it was Archie’s number.

“‘Scuse me,” Clawrk said, sliding his arm out from behind her as he bent over to reach it. Clawdeen sat up and leaned over to give him room. She pulled the blanket over her shoulders and wrapped it around her.

Clawrk sat back, putting the phone to his ear, “Hello?”

“ _He’s guilty!”_

All four of them jumped at the way the dinosaur cryptid yelled into the phone. He was so loud that Clawdeen and them could hear him clearly, even though Clawrk hadn’t even put it on speaker phone. The elder Wolf grimaced and yanked the phone away from him for a moment, the unexpected volume hurting his ears a little.

“Archie, could you lower your voice?” he asked, bringing it back to him, “What are you talking about?”

“ _He’s guilty, Clawrk!”_ Clawdeen heard Archie repeat, “ _Hoovestein, he’s guilty! The jury found him guilty!”_

It was like all the air had suddenly gone out of the room. All four of them froze, like a curse had just been muttered that rendered them unable to move.

Clawdeen felt her mouth drop open in shock. She stared at her father, her eyes wide like plates. Clawrk just stared ahead, looking equally bewildered. Clawdeen glanced over at Don and Howie; they stared back at her, both of them pale and frozen with surprise.

There were footsteps in the kitchen. The three of them looked up to see Harriet approach from the doorway. She gripped the door frame and leaned in. Her eyes were just as wide as Clawdeen’s. She glanced between her daughter and her husband.

“Did...did he just say…?” she stammered, seemingly too dumbstruck to find the words.

At the front of the room, the TV blasted with laughter from the studio audience on the sitcom in a stark contrast from the room’s atmosphere. Howie grabbed the remote and muted it.

Clawrk took the phone away again and put on the speaker.

“Archie...w-wh...what?” he questioned.

Archie sounded as proud and relieved as can be as he stated, “ _You heard that right, my friend. The jury found him guilty- ALL of them, they were found guilty! The verdicts were reached by a landslide!_ _It only took them five whole minutes to come to a decision!_

“ _I know, I know,”_ he said, “ _After all these months of having to wait and_ _constant recesses, it seemed like this whole damn thing was going to last the whole year. But I’m telling you, man, it’s come! No more excuses from the defense, no more loopholes! The judge and jury have spoken!”_

Something hard twisted up in Clawdeen’s chest. For a second she forgot to breathe. She stared at the phone in Clawrk’s hand like something had just emerged from the screen.

Those were words she never thought she hear.

Five years ago, they were impossible. These last few months, they seemed like a pipe dream as the trial dragged on and on, and each day seemed like just another day that Aran _wasn’t_ sitting in a cell.

Yet, here was the family lawyer on the phone for her case, telling her that the day had finally come.

Aran was found guilty.

After all these years of seeming like he was untouchable, of Clawdeen feeling like he would be able to get away with everything and anything and there wasn’t a thing she could do about it, of feeling like she’d have to live the rest of her days in fear, worrying that he wouldn’t suffer so much as a fine or a even a stain on his record- he was finally found guilty.

The entire empire he’d built off hurting and using Clawdeen and who knew how many others had finally crumbled.

Nobody spoke for a second. Then, Clawrk blurted out, “H-H-How?”

Archie answered, “ _You remember when you told me that the police said when they first caught Mawcorn and the_ _fairy they were going to be looking through Mawcorn’s files on his computer to see if they could find any connection as to what they did with Clawdeen?_

“ _Well,_ _the same thing happened to Hoovestein upon his arrest by the department in DC,”_ he explained, “ _It was tricky for a while- the bastard certainly knows his way with firewalls and using open-source software to keep his IP from getting tracked, and he seems to consistently clear his search history. It took a while for the software engineers they hired to finally find a hole in the coding to break them all down.”_

His voice grew giddy as he said the next part, “ _Luckily, though, they finally broke through! Holy Cretaceous, Clawrk, the shit they found on there- it was EVERYTHING we needed; transactions on darknet markets, receipts for buying revenge porn, offshore accounts with all his money from stuff like selling drugs or ghouls._

“ _And, the most damning: we found the e-mails sent between him and Mawcorn, of them talking about Clawdeen! Our ace in the hole, just what we needed to solidify the case for sure!”_ Archie exclaimed.

“Oh...oh my god,” Harriet said, “O-Oh my fucking god...”

Clawrk closed his eyes and let out a giant breath, like it’d been one he’d been holding in forever. “Thank Christ...”

“They got him,” Clawdeen muttered to herself. She turned her head and stared at the floor, reeling from all the revelations, “They...actually got him...”

It sounded foreign to her own ears. She pinched her thigh through her jeans to make sure that somehow, this wasn’t all one big dream she was having. If it was, she didn’t think she’d be able to withstand such cruelty.

“ _Yes they did,”_ Archie assured her, seemingly already guessing they were all listening in, “ _The judge didn’t_ _let up one bit during the sentencing. He’s got twenty-seven to life; he’s never going to see the outside of a prison cell for the rest of his days.”_

Howie spoke up, “Y-You’re not joking, right? You’re not saying this just to make us feel better for something terrible that’s come about and trying to lessen the blow?”

From the other end, they could hear Archie make a “hmph” noise, like he was smirking.

“ _If you don’t believe me, kiddo, look it up on the news,”_ he said, “ _Channel 76, from DC.”_

Howie shared a look with Don. He cast a glance at Clawdeen. She just stared at him. Howie nodded at her, as if that alone was some kind of conformation for him.

He reached over to the desk next to the couch and grabbed his diePod off its surface. Flipping it open, he pulled up a webpage and typed something into the search bar. As he looked up results, his eyes widened at what he saw.

“...Holy shit,” he said.

Harriet walked further into the living room. “What? What does it say?”

Howie pressed something on the screen and scrolled down some, before he started to read off the news article he pulled up.

“‘After a four-month long trial, four local men have finally been sentenced to several consecutive unlife sentences for their role in a mass sex trafficking ring that was uncovered late September,’” he read off, “According to various court documents, witness testimony, and evidence, Aran Hoovestein, Bryce Polidori, Grady Twotoemilson, and James Panthera; participated in prostituting multiple women and ghouls from as early as 2009 in the Western district of Hauntshire, as well as buying and selling black-market weapons and drugs.’”

Howie scrolled down the page some more, until he got to a specific part. He read off “‘Hoovestein was charged with seventeen counts related to prostitution and trafficking, including: three counts of sex trafficking a minor, distribution and manufacturing of child pornography, two counts of transportation of minors for sexual exploitation, five counts of rape, sexual assault, and three counts of aggravated assault with intent to do bodily harm.’

“‘He was convicted of all charges and as of today, will serve two unlife sentences,’” he said, “‘Along with him, Polidori will serve four unlife sentences, Twotoemilson will serve five, and Panthera was sentenced to three. Reports say all four men will serve time at Harvey Correctional Facility...’”

He looked up from the screen then, letting the sentence hang in the air as he gauged each of his family’s reactions. Clawrk and Harriet looked at each other.

“ _That’s right, they got him,”_ Archie said, “ _All four them are going away for good. Along with the brothers Clawdeen told me about. All of them. Good riddance.”_

“...He’s gone.”

Archie became quiet. They all turned towards Clawdeen. She remained where she was, the blanket wrapped tightly around her as she continued to stare at the floor; the look in her eyes made her seem like she was in some sort of trance.

“He’s gone,” she repeated, “He’s really gone. He’s...really going to be gone...”

She swallowed hard. Her vision became blurry.

After all her years of being under Aran’s hoof- forced to do his bidding and sell her body and her soul as he used her, beat her, berated her, damaged her without a care in the world, as long as she brought him money and pleasure- all her years of being scared, feeling helpless, wondering when the day would ever end, and fearing that the only way out would be her death…

He was finally gone. She was back home, back with her family, back in school, and he was going to be in prison.

He was finally gone.

She could finally breathe again.

She could finally _live again._

She tried to breathe. It came out as a harsh, broken sob that sounded almost painful, before she was suddenly on the couch, crying.

Clawdeen pulled her knees up and hugged herself, crying heavily. They were not tears of sadness, however. Instead, it felt as if twenty thousand pounds had just been lifted off her shoulder. She cried in relief and gratefulness at what Archie had told them.

For once, the impossible had been done. Her and the ghouls had been given justice. It felt both like a punch in the stomach and like the figurative anchor that’d been dragging her down had finally been cut. Her heart swelled. Her muscles and stomach were finally able to relax from the tension that came on them every time this topic was brought up.

“He’s gone,” Clawdeen sobbed, “He’s gone...”

She cried harder. Her brothers and parents all looked at her sympathetically, their expressions crumbling at the sight of her.

“Archie, let me call you back,” Clawrk said into the phone, “Thank you for telling us. And thank you for all you done. I’m forever in your doubt.”

“ _I don’t need the credit. I’m just doing my job,”_ Archie reiterated, “ _Just give me a call back if you have any questions.”_

“I will, thank you,” Clawrk repeated before he hung up.

He dropped the phone back onto the counter and turned to Clawdeen. Gently, him and Harriet came forth and took the sniveling she-wolf into a big embrace. She latched onto them desperately and collapsed into Clawrk’s hold, like all the strength had suddenly left her.

“There, there, baby,” he said softly, stroking Clawdeen’s hair as she wept into his shoulder, “It’s all over, now.”

“It is,” Clawdeen said with relief, still crying, “It is. It’s over, it’s over...”

* * *

Later that night, Clawdeen lay awake in bed, still under the covers.

She’d been exhausted after her parents managed to calm her down from her crying fit. By the time that dinner was ready and they all sat down to eat, she felt like she was about fall asleep right in the middle of eating her tacos. Soon after the dishes were clear, she thought it was best to tuck in early for the night and get some rest. Her emotional battery had been drained far beyond its limits.

Yet, only shortly after she settled in, Clawdeen found she was unable to sleep. She seemed to have dozed off long enough for Howleen to go to bed and fall asleep without alerting her, but now Clawdeen found herself wide awake. Just out of nowhere, she awoke; it wasn’t from a bad dream or anything, she just woke up. No matter what she did- counting backwards from one hundred, listening to the soft sounds of the ceiling fan and Howleen’s snores, closing her eyes and trying to think of things that normally got her sleepy- she couldn’t fall asleep.

Deep down, she knew it was because she couldn’t get her mind off the news about Aran.

It just all seemed so unreal, it was overwhelming. Even now, hours after the reality of it all had finally settled on her and she realized just what it all meant, there was still a part of her that she realized was wary about the news.

Maybe it was her being paranoid from past experiences, but part of her was still afraid that somehow, something might happen so Aran wouldn’t serve his sentence after all. Like, if there was a possible fluke in the system or it turns out the police had overlooked something so evidence was contaminated so it wasn’t as reliant, or on his way to be transported in the prison, some of his closest acquaintances carjacked the truck and crashed it somewhere to allow him to escape and live under a new identity.

(She knew the last one was supremely far-fetched and just the result of watching too many thriller movies, but considering all that she’d been through, nothing sounded too good to be true anymore).

There was also the fact to consider that, just because Aran was now in prison, it didn’t mean her trauma would go away. Even now, she was still having nightmares or triggers or anxiety attacks that would lead her to calling Jennifur on speed dial as she became desperate for someone helping her rationalize her irrational thoughts.

He was paying for what he’d done to her, but so was she.

Truthfully, Clawdeen hated it. Why did it have to be her burden to bear? Why did she have to share in his misery, when she’d had enough of her own to deal with purely from his end?

Giving a small sigh, Clawdeen turned her head on her pillow to glance at her alarm clock. It was about fifteen minutes past two in the morning. The whole house was still as everyone within slept soundly in their own rooms. From between the curtains, she could see that outside the window, the sky was a deep blackish blue.

Slowly, so as not to wake Crescent or Howleen, Clawdeen sat up and pulled the covers away from her. She set her feet over the side and stood up, deciding to get herself a glass of water. She slid into her slippers at the foot of her bed and pulled on her bathrobe, before slowly, she opened the door and let herself out.

The only sound in the house at that moment was the slight creak of the stairs as she walked down them. Clawdeen held onto the railing, trying not to be too loud. As she rounded the corner of the stairs, though, she suddenly paused when she heard a small noise come from the right.

On instinct, she froze. Ever so slightly, she leaned in over the railing, trying to catch a flicker of movement from the darkness. Her eyes glowed unearthly blue from her night vision.

There was a single light on in the kitchen, the one over the sink. She heard a small clinking noise of ice against glass. A moment later, she heard a familiar tone of a man’s voice as he cleared his throat.

Clawdeen let out a small sigh of relief. Lifting her head, she once again was silent as she went down the rest of the stairs. She slowly turned into the doorway of the kitchen, quietly letting her presence be known so as not to spook the person inside.

Clawrk sat at the island, his hand cradling his forehead as he stared blankly down at the patterns that the granite had made on the counter top. In his other hand, he held a glass of water in his hands. From his wrinkled clothes and his mused hair, it was clear he’d gotten out of bed as well.

“Dad?” Clawdeen called out.

The Wolf patriarch glanced up at her. There were small lines under his eyes. Clawrk’s gaze softened.

“Hey,” he said softly, “Did you have a bad dream?”

Clawdeen shook her head. “Can’t sleep,” she said.

Clawrk nodded, “Me neither. The whole night I’ve been tossing and turning, unable to get my mind off today. Thought I’d come down here and have some time to myself so I didn’t wake your mother.”

“Me...me too,” Clawdeen said, sliding into the chair next to him, “I keep thinking of so many things and it’s like my brain’s been hot-wired so it all goes at ninety miles a minute.”

“You want to talk about it?” Clawrk asked.

She shrugged. She put her hands out in front of her and folded them together, looking off at the darkened dining room for a second as she thought. Clawrk remained silent, watching her, waiting for her to speak.

“I was thinking about...today, too,” Clawdeen said, “Just on...how I feel about everything.”

Silently, Clawrk gave another nod, urging her to go on. Clawdeen shrugged.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, “It’s like, I’m glad beyond all belief that he’s finally getting punished for everything. But at the same time, I just think about everything that’s happened- when I was there, when I was in the hospital, now with me being in therapy and all that- and I just...I don’t know, I just feel like it’s...not enough? I guess.”

“That makes sense,” Clawrk said, “He can be locked away and the average person will never have to spare him another thought. You’re still left, physically and mentally, with all the reminders. He’s screwed up your entire sense of safety and trust. Him being in jail isn’t going to magically make things the way they were beforehand.”

That earned him a grateful smile from Clawdeen, who was glad he understood where he was coming from. Clawrk gave her a small half-smile and reached out gently squeeze her hand. She turned her palm upward to grasp back.

“But remember, we’ll always be here,” he said reassuringly, “You won’t ever have to bear that burden alone. Not ever again.”

Clawdeen tilted her head. “Thank you, Dad.”

Her father looked down at their heads, admiring the difference between them. His fingers were rough and calloused from all his years as a foreman, handling drywall and wooden blanks and steel beams, while Clawdeen’s were a bit smoother. His claws were rough and jagged, while she kept hers filed to neat points.

“...You know, when I first got that phone call,” Clawrk spoke up, “I thought they were going to tell me they had finally found your body somewhere...”

Clawdeen perked up at him. He was staring out into space, deep in thought. She could see his Adam’s apple bob up and down as his jaw tightened, like he was trying to swallow a rock.

“I never wanted to believe that it could be true,” Clawrk continued, “I convinced myself that it wouldn’t be true, no matter what. I knew I couldn’t allow myself to fall into that hole. I had to be strong- for your mom, your siblings. An alpha can’t show weakness when his packmates are relying on him to lead the way.

“So I did what I thought I could. I went to every one of your favorite stores practically every weekend and asked around about you, I only let myself cry when I was in the shower, I went to every stadium, every school, every shopping mall in almost the whole state to see if I could spot someone who looked like you,” he added.

His shoulders dropped and he let out a big breath, before he slumped back in his chair. Clawdeen squeezed his fingers to try and comfort him.

“I told myself that I would never allow myself to think the worst had happened. That we _were_ going to see you again some day,” Clawrk continued, “And yet, when that day finally came and they called me...I realized, in spite of myself, I had lost hope. I...I gave up. I was just, so _tired_ , of the what-ifs and the pain, I...I resigned myself to the inevitable, even if I didn’t want to.”

Clawdeen didn’t know how to respond to that. She swallowed hard and bit her lip. It pained her to see the weariness on her father’s face. Clawrk was always so strong and so much of a leader, it was almost scary to see him look so weak.

She didn’t blame him for his statements. She’d given up a long time ago on ever being found. It was hard to have hope in what was generally a hopeless situation.

Turning his attention back to her, Clawrk sniffed and smiled at her weakly. His eyes were slightly glazed like he was trying not to cry. He tugged on her hand and pulled her towards him. Clawdeen went with no resistance and slid her hands under his arms as he hugged her tightly.

“I love you so much, Clawdeen,” he said, “I’m so sorry that this happened to you. I can’t even begin to imagine the terrible things you’ve been through and how scared you must’ve been, dealing with it all by yourself. Your experience with sex should be with someone you trust who will respect you and your boundaries. It pains me to know that you didn’t get to have that.”

He stroked the back of her head and turned his slightly to kiss her hair. He said, “No matter, what, though, I hope you know I’m on your side, always and forever, no matter what. I know it wasn’t your fault and no way did you ask for this; this is something nobody deserves to go through. I’m here for you, always.”

“I know, Daddy,” Clawdeen whispered, nuzzling into his chest. She took comfort in his smell; he smelled like all the buildings he put together- paint, wood, varnish.

Clawrk pulled away and smiled down at her lovingly. He used his thumbs to wipe the tears that threatened to spill from the corners of her eyes.

“How about you and me head back to bed?” he suggested, “We both need our rest.”

“Sure,” Clawdeen said, “I just need some water first.”

“Of course, my love,” Clawrk replied.

He got out of his chair and fished her a cup from the cupboard, fetching ice water for her himself. Clawdeen took it gratefully. They shared another hug in the kitchen, taking solace in each other’s presence, before Clawrk led her back up the stairs and turned out the light behind them.

“Sweet dreams, Deenie,” he said outside her door, “And if anything happens, you know you can always wake me up or your mom.”

Clawdeen joked, “Aren’t I a little old to come running to your bedside?”

Clawrk shrugged, “No matter, you’re always my little pup. Besides, sometimes we all need to embrace childish traditions when we’re low.”

“Okay,” Clawdeen chuckled, “I will.”

They parted ways and she headed back into her room. Gently closing the door behind her, Clawdeen set her glass of water on her nightstand and slid back under the blankets. She settled on her side against her pillow, comforted by Clawrk’s scent which lingered on her clothes.

Her father’s offer of her coming to him turned out to be unneeded, though, as soon after Clawdeen fell into a peaceful sleep, and remained undisturbed for the rest of the night. Her dreams were pleasant ones that soothed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I know this will come as a disappointment for those who've been keeping up, especially with us being so close to the end of this story (OMG, we're really so close!), but I'm afraid updates will come later and less frequently than they have been for the last few months. I've gotten a job recently, and between its long hours and me also reserving time to study for graduate exams, I'm afraid I won't have as much free time as I did previously. Thank you for understanding.


	17. Chapter 16: The Only Way From Here is Up

“So, I heard you went flower shopping with your friend for her wedding,” Jennifur asked with a smile as she crossed one leg over the other, “How did that go?”

Clawdeen started with her own smile. She relaxed into the couch cushions. “It went really well,” she said, “She said she’s always trusted my opinion on decorations, so she wanted to get a second voice for what she’d do about the table décor before she caved into the wedding planner and bought real flowers for the occasion, which would’ve been easily a few hundred dollars just for a bouquet.”

She gave a shrug, “I just told her you can just buy a bunch of fake ones from the dollar store and we could make the bouquets ourselves. That way we can reuse them for other occasions and she wouldn’t waste money on something that’s going to die in a few days.”

“That’s a smart idea,” Jennifur appraised, “I think my sister helped me do something similar for my wedding.”

“I’m really into DIY and crafts,” Clawdeen said, “So I picked up a few tricks. It really helps to know how to use the stuff around you when you want to make yourself known but don’t have the money to just splurge on Nordstrom or Howllister.”

She gave a smirk as Jennifur gave her a nod of acknowledgment of her cleverness. Just as quickly, though, Clawdeen’s brows furrowed and her face scrunched up in a quick frown.

“It’s funny that she says that, though,” she added, “Lala’s always said she trusted my opinion on everything, yet when we were younger, I could never get her to try to wear some other color besides the same bright ass shade of pink all the time.”

Jennifur chuckled, “Some people are stuck in their ways like that. Admittedly, I used to be like that. No matter how many times my brother told me I looked silly, when I was fourteen I was _insistent_ that I was doing something by dying my hair bright yellow and wearing the brightest neon clothes I had at the same time.” 

Clawdeen looked up at her, her eyes widening in mock horror at the thought of the werecat’s teen fashion. Jennifur pretended to hang her head in shame, before the two of them burst out laughing.

“Oh, god!” Clawdeen exclaimed as she threw her head back and grasped her sides, “That sounds exactly like something my sister would put on when she was a freshman!”

“What can I say, I was a young emo who thought I needed to be ‘different’ from what all the other ghouls were doing,” Jennifur said. A small grimace came onto her face in memory, “Even though I probably was just being an obnoxious git who acted like she was better than everyone else just cuz she didn’t like pink or lace.” 

Clawdeen gave a shrug and pointed out, “Well, you were young. You live and you learn through stuff like that.  Besides, it was something you liked and you were comfortable with it. Even if it doesn’t look good to everyone else, you weren’t hurting anyone by dressing the way you wanted.” 

“You speaking from experience?” Jennifur asked in amusement.

In response, Clawdeen shook her head at her. Her mouth twisted up in a grimace before she admitted, “Not me, but my sister. I used to constantly ridicule her for dressing like she was going in the dumpster, or for never coordinating her outfits and looking generally what I thought was sloppy.”

She winced when she thought back to the disaster with the magic lamp that happened the beginning of junior year. “At one point, though, she completely changed and I realized that even though it looked rough and unpolished, at least she was being herself.”

Jennifur nodded in understanding, “Teenage years are confusing like that, aren’t they?  We all want to stand out, yet at the same time everyone’s desperate to fit in, even if we don’t want to admit it.” 

She tilted her head at Clawdeen and leaned her weight against her left elbow. “Speaking of teenagers, how has school been for you?”

“It’s been fine,” Clawdeen answered, “I’m acing all my classes. Headmistress Bloodgood says with the way things are going, I might even be able to finish the rest of my credits by the end of this year instead of next year. Which also means I might be able to get my associate’s by the winter of next year.” 

She bore a proud smile as she recanted this part. It was a great relief to her, to know that she was closer to what she originally wanted to do for her post-graduate plans than what she initially seemed to be. The fact that she was doing so well at Monster High also made her feel very happy with herself.

Admittedly, it’d been hard, having to pretty much play catch-up and re-learn entire months’ and even years’ worth of material to be able to follow along with her classes, but Clawdeen chose to swallow her pride and go with Bloodgood’s advice of going to after-school tutoring, which had helped her tremendously (even though she was sure the math tutor hated her by this point, since even after what had to be fifty repeats of the same explanation, she still didn’t get limits).

She had also warmed up quite a bit to Hellamy, the vampire in her Clawculus class who’d complimented her about her shirt, and the two of them had formed a study group with some of the other people in their class, and they spent every other lunch period together to go over lessons that seemed confusing or doing the practice packets that had been given to them to prepare for any upcoming tests.

Clawdeen initially had some reservations about spending time with them. Hellamy seemed nice, but the way she had approached Clawdeen and some of her initial comments had reminded the latter quite a bit too much of how her first meeting with Gem had calmed down. Even right now, Clawdeen knew she still had a bit of a wall up around her classmates.

Jennifur told her it would be only natural for her to be distrustful and  wary, considering the way things had gone, but Hellamy- whether she knew about what happened to Clawdeen or not-  didn’t seem to mind, even though she did look disappointed when she invited Clawdeen over to her house a few times and the werewolf promptly turned her down. 

A part of Clawdeen felt bad, but considering everything in the past, it would take a long time for her to ever be comfortable going over to a stranger’s house again. She was still highly paranoid about going out in public places, let alone private property. Even now, she never left the house without making sure her mom knew exactly where she was going, what she was wearing, and when she’d expected to be back. 

“That’s wonderful!” Jennifur said in reference to her comment about school, “You have an idea of what you want to study once you’re done?”

“Originally, I was adamant about fashion,” Clawdeen explained, “You know: Go to the top school, move to Boo York, get a head start on my empire. But now, I think I might go into business. That way if the fashion store thing doesn’t work out somehow, you know, I still have the credentials to look into something else.”

“It never hurts to have a back up,” Jennifur agreed.

“Yeah,” Clawdeen chuckled, “That’s always been me. Try to expect the best, but prepare for the worst, ya know? I used to call it being ‘ideally realistic’. My dad says I probably just let myself overthink too much.”

She smiled, feeling proud of herself. She took one of the pillows next to her and hugged it close.

“Yeah, it’s all been going good,” Clawdeen agreed, “Nothing out of the ordinary. That sleep medicine you recommended is helping- I’m starting to not have nightmares as regularly, and my anxiety’s been pretty tame the last few weeks.” 

Her expression faltered. She slowly dropped her gaze to the floor and let out a sigh as she seemed to think of something. 

“Though, with the week after next coming up, something tells me that’s subject to change,” she said in a small, weary voice. 

It immediately clicked to Jennifur what she meant. She sat up. 

“You’re talking about the anniversary for the kidnapping, right?” she asked, “That would be, when? The sixteenth?” 

“The nineteenth,” Clawdeen clarified, turning her head to stare out the window. She said wearily, “Six years, it will be. Six years since my entire life got turned upside down and twisted inside out and became completely fucked up.” 

“Why do you think that will make your anxiety worse?” Jennifur probed, “Is it the knowledge of what went on that date that gets you uneasy? Or do you think you won’t be able to think of anything to keep your mind off it?” 

Clawdeen was quiet for a second. She looked out at some birds fluttering between the trees outside, before her gaze slid to the coffee table in front of her. She picked up one of the small figurines that was resting on the coffee table and turned it around in her hands. It was in the shape of a white tiger and an orange tiger crouched side by side as they drank from a watering hole.

“I don’t know,” she finally confessed, “I guess I just...don’t know how I should feel. I don’t know if I should try to do stuff that makes me feel good and distract me from it and make it one of those ‘you don’t rule me, I’m taking back this day’ bullshit things, or if I should just spend the whole day crying and lamenting about it all.” 

She crossed her arms and made a face. “I don’t know. I mean, I know it’s a date I’ll never be able to look at the same again. 

“The same way there are certain things relating to it that I know I might not be comfortable with anymore because of their relation to it,” she said, “I can’t drink orange soda or even look at it, because it reminds me of the bottle Gem gave me that was drugged. Every time I see a pick up truck, especially ones with cracked windshields, I think about Striggy. Some shades of even blue make me think about that charm they had hanging from the rearview mirror that I saw right before I fainted.” 

She shifted in her seat as her gaze became more distraught. She added, “And then all that makes me think of how much time passed between me fainting and me waking up and all the horrible shit I had to experience down in that basement. How they just tied me up and _left_ me there, let me be hurt and used and how _they_ both hurt and used me.” 

Her lips pursed and shifted to the side, like she was contemplating something else. She then said, “I...I don’t know. I mean, I watch all these shows and read these forums, and it’s like...half of them saying to find something to distract you and it’s okay to not want to think about it, but then it’s also like these same people are saying you shouldn’t act like _nothing_ happened. But if I don’t want to think about it, why _should_ I think about it?” 

She put the figurine back on the table and leaned back, her hands in her lap. 

“I...I don’t know what I should do,” she said. 

“There’s not necessarily an ‘appropriate’ response to dealing with a trauma anniversary,” Jennifur said, “Everyone’s different. Some people can think about it and acknowledge it and that’s good enough, and some people find that day harder to get out of bed than others. Obviously, if you just stay in bed all day and not eat or shower and that continued for days on end, or you went around partying and acted all moonbeams and starlight nothing _ever_ happened, those would both be red flags, but the fact that you’re here in my office, talking to me right now shows otherwise.” 

Clawdeen nodded, “I guess you got a point there...” 

Jennifur turned to the side and grabbed a legal pad that was resting on the table beside her chair. She put it on her lap and took a pen out of her shirt pocket, before she uncapped it and wrote something down on the pad. 

“Tell you what,” she said, “When that day comes closer, if you’re feeling any way- whether you think you’re having a severe depressive episode, you really want to do anything to not think about it, or you’re just feeling generally apathetic- you give me a call. Or that day, we can arrange an appointment besides you’re weekly one and talk it out then. Does that sound good?” 

Clawdeen confirmed, “Yeah. I guess it doesn’t mean much to talk about it now, if it’s still two weeks away.” 

“Well, you never know,” Jennifur pointed out, “Some people get hit and go through the motions a lot earlier than others. We’ll still keep an eye out, though, so at least when you feel like you’re finally experiencing those motions, we can make sure nothing dramatic happens that may bring further harm to you.” 

That got her a smirk from the chestnut haired wolf. Clawdeen gave her a grateful look, glad to know that Jennifur was already thinking ahead as to how to help her wellbeing when the anniversary finally came around. 

It was funny, she thought. To think she’d initially been so hesitant to therapy. How could she have ever thought she would’ve gotten on without someone like Jennifur to talk to, who could put into words exactly how she was feeling or rationalize her behaviors in a way that made perfect sense? 

Clawdeen knew it was because of her own preconceived notions about therapists and psychologists and the bad rep they were given in media that she had had the worst idea about how the whole thing worked. Now, though, she looked back on those thoughts and couldn’t believe how silly she was being. 

Jennifur told her that there was a variety of reasons why people went to a shrink, and it wasn’t always because they were depressed or traumatized. Some people had rough patches in their relationships and needed an outside, unbiased source to help them figure out why they were happening and how to overcome them. Some people realized they had fallen into toxic habits and didn’t have the support from their friends and families to get passed them. And some people just really needed someone to talk to because they didn’t really have anyone else. 

Now, having been going to these sessions for a few steady months, Clawdeen saw just how helpful it was seeing Jen and how ridiculous she had been to ever think, due to her emotional hesitance and admittedly a bit of her ego, that she could handle such a thing on her own. 

There was nothing to be ashamed of for needing someone who could help you navigate your feelings. 

There was nothing wrong with wanting help. 

Fully embracing that, she continued her session with Jennifur, talking about all the other things she had done that week.

* * *

Clawdeen laid on her bed, her legs bent and one crossed over the other as she held her phone above her, texting Frankie and Laura about their plans for Thursday; a farmer’s market had started occurring every week near Frankie and Jackson’s apartment, and she wanted to have a little get-together with the gang where they took a look at it and saw what it offered. 

In the middle of sending a message to the construct about their vehicle arrangements, Clawdeen paused as a message window suddenly popped up at the top of her screen.

_ Romulus: Hey, u free at all tonight? Wanted to show you something on video chat? ;) _

Clawdeen smiled and texted back, _Sure. Just give me a few minutes_

_Romulus: :D_

She giggled and shook her head at his silliness. “So dumb,” she muttered under her breath in amusement as she sat up and pushed herself off the bed, striding over to her desk. 

She pulled up the lid of her laptop and logged on to the homepage. There was already a little red bubble sticking up from the messenger app on her desktop. Clawdeen clicked on it; a little white light flickered on along the top of her laptop as her webcam turned on. A window opened up, and a second later, Romulus appeared on screen, seemingly staring right at her. 

“Hey, there’s my favorite Wolf sister,” he said, grinning brightly as his eyes flickered with recognition. 

Clawdeen snorted as she adjusted the angle of her laptop. “Don’t let Howleen hear that, or she might fly all the way there just to kick your ass.” 

Romulus chuckled, “You’re right. Correction: My favorite _older_ Wolf sister who loves purple and gold and loves fashion.” 

He smiled cheekily as Clawdeen rolled her eyes. She shook her head and muttered something about boys only growing older in body, before she turned back to the screen. 

“So, what did you want to show me?” she asked, “I assume it must be really important if you couldn’t just send it to me in a text.” 

On screen, Romulus leaned back in his chair and put a hand to his chest as if offended. 

He scoffed, “Is that how low you think of me? That I didn’t want to talk to you simply because I wanted to see how my friend whom I’ve known since we were pups was doing?” 

“Rom, cut the crap,” Clawdeen said jokingly. 

She watched as he held his hands up in a passive gesture, before he shrugged. “You caught me.” 

He leaned over to the left and went offscreen, for a moment, before he sat back up. There was a box in his hands. He looked at the screen and the big mischievous grin he’d been wearing when Clawdeen first came online came back. 

Clawdeen looked at the box and furrowed her brows. “What the hell’s that?” she asked. 

Romulus answered, “Just something I thought you’d love to see.

“I was walking back to my housing complex after finishing up some research for the day with my associate,” he explained, “When I decided to take a quick detour and do some shopping, since I’ve been needing some new shoes and shirts.” 

His eyes sparkled as his smile grew. “ _Well,”_ he said, “While I was in this thrift store looking around for some sneakers, my eyes wandered to the women’s shoes section and you wouldn’t believe what I found...” 

He opened up the shoe box and pulled out its contents and held them up for her to see. Clawdeen felt her mouth dropped open as she got a look at the footwear. 

In his hands was a mint condition pair of Jeffright Camhell platform stilettos, which were metallic gold and covered in glitter. They had been all the rage her freshman year of high school. 

Romulus chuckled as he caught the dumbfounded expression on her face as Clawdeen just stared for a few seconds, awestruck at the sight of the expensive shoe. Suddenly, she blinked and looked back up at him. 

“...I must say, Romulus, I never took you for liking heels,” she said after a moment’s silence, grinning, “Though, I think those might be a bit too small for you.” 

She watched as Romulus blinked in confusion, obviously not catching her inference. When he did, she closed his eyes and bent his head; she heard him snigger before he suddenly reeled his head back and let out a giant laugh that was bound to get him noise complaints. 

“Holy shit, could you imagine?” Romulus laughed, putting one of the shoes down to wipe at his eye, “I come back home and my folks come to greet me and there I am, just walking down the runway in these like its Boo York Fashion Week?” 

“I don’t know, I think you can pull it off,” Clawdeen giggled, “Add a blazer and some eyeliner, and you’re already halfway to looking like a member of the newest new age boy band.”

Romulus snorted. He calmed down and looked back at her, holding the shoes up once again. 

“That’s not all,” he said, “They were less than ninety-five krone at the store. Like, that’s less than _ten dollars_ here.” 

“Seriously?!” 

“Yep,” Romulus confirmed, “And seeing how they were exactly you’re style, I thought I’d get them while they could still be a steal.” 

Clawdeen stopped short. She gaped at him for a few seconds, unsure if she had heard him correct. 

“Wait...what?” she asked. 

Romulus beamed, “You heard me. I’m sending these to you.” 

The flabbergasted expression on Clawdeen’s face grew more intense. It looked like she was having trouble processing what he was saying. 

When it finally occurred to her just what he said, and she realized now that’s why he wanted to show her the shoes, she frowned and shook her head. 

“Rom...you shouldn’t have done that,” she said. 

Romulus lowered the shoes. Now, he looked like he was confused. 

“Why not?” he asked. 

“I...Because it’s...” Clawdeen stammered, trying to find the words. She sighed and brushed her hair back from her neck, “I mean, _you_ said it’s super expensive to ship things internationally. You should be using that money for food or to get stuff for yourself, not just buying everything that makes you think of me.” 

Romulus frowned and leaned back in his seat, seemingly a bit taken aback by her response. 

“I don’t buy _everything_ that makes me think of you,” he said defensively, “This is the only other thing I’ve gotten for you besides that book I sent with the other stuff I got for Clawd and Leena.” 

“Yeah, but...” Clawdeen began. 

“But _what?”_ the grey wolf questioned, “I just wanted to get you a gift, is all, and I know you like shoes and this kind of design and color. I thought I’d surprise you, that’s it.” 

“I know, but...don’t you need that money for something else?” Clawdeen asked, “I mean, like, for your housing payment or something.” 

“I already have enough money to make ends meet here,” Romulus said, “I have a bunch of cash saved up. And they were cheap, like I said. It’s not hurting me at all.” 

Clawdeen wanted to argue further, but every argument she thought she had quickly fell short when she mulled it over in her head. She still looked a bit unsure at his generosity. 

“I...” she lowered her ears, now realizing how she was sounding. She blushed and let out a tired breath. 

“I’m sorry, Rom,” she said, “I’m not trying to sound ungrateful. I guess I’m...still not used to people getting stuff for me just because they wanted to. They’re nice shoes, and I’m flattered.” 

Now, it was Romulus’s turn to blush. He winced as if pained and rubbed his neck. 

“No, you’re right. It does sound kind of awkward, me just sending you a random item like this. They’re not even souvenirs,” he said bashfully, “I didn’t even try to see if this was a designer you liked. 

“I guess I’m kind of overcompensating for the distance,” he admitted, “I guess I’m a little homesick. I just...I miss you, Deen.” 

Clawdeen felt her heart leap in her chest. Her cheeks grew immensely hot, and she hoped that her cheeks didn’t look nearly as red on his side of the screen as she was seeing herself now. She suddenly felt a bit warm inside. 

Before she could help herself, she gave Romulus a smile and said, “We e-mail and chat on here or the phone almost every other day, though.” 

“I know,” Romulus said, “But it’s not the same. I want to see you in person and be able to talk to you whenever I want, instead of really late at night or early in the morning because of the time zones. It’s hard, with you and everyone being all the way there and I’m here by myself. I...I miss you.” 

Hearing him say it again was enough to cause a strange fluttery feeling to awaken in Clawdeen’s stomach. She suddenly had a sense of feeling light and airy. 

“I miss you, too,” she said earnestly, “And I do love the shoes. I _do._ Thank you, Rom.”

Romulus looked at her for a second. Slowly, he gave her a soft smile. It send a pleasant tingle down her spine in a way that she didn’t understand. Right now, Clawdeen didn’t bother trying to understand it. 

“You better,” Rom said jokingly, “Cuz I’m going to keep an eye on social media, so don’t get them and then try to pass them off to Cleo or Laura or any of them and then say you love them the next time I ask about them.” 

“Gee, I’m glad you have so much trust in me,” Clawdeen said dryly. 

“You know it,” Romulus said in response, giving her a small wink. 

He chuckled as Clawdeen, staring at him with a deadpanned expression, silently gave him the finger. He brought his hand up and she saw him check his watch. 

“Well, I better be going,” he said, looking back up at her, “I have to meet my research coordinator at nine on the dot.” 

He leaned forward as he reached for his mouse and gave her a nod. “I’ll talk to you later, Clawdeen. Have a good night.” 

Clawdeen smiled and gave her own nod, “I will. Thank you for the shoes, again.” 

“Let me know when you get them,” Romulus said, “Bye.” 

“Bye.” 

Romulus closed out, leaving Clawdeen’s screen to go black, before the messenger app shut down itself. Her gaze lingered on her desktop as she thought back to their conversation. 

_ I miss you, ‘Deen.  _

Her cheeks remained warm and bright pink. She felt a small thumping in her chest as her heart picked up speed in excitement. Clawdeen brought a hand to her chest, gently stroking her necklace; it was the Wonder Woman one Romulus had got her for Cryptmas. 

Even now, miles away, he was still thinking of her in the little things he saw. 

Like she had said, she missed him as well. Dearly, Clawdeen realized. Ever since they’d become pen-pals, since Romulus started his residency in Denmark for his thesis, they’d spent nearly every day communicating and updating each other on their unlives and anything that went on. 

Surprisingly, Romulus had actually become one of Clawdeen’s biggest means of support in the last month or so. She’d tell him of the progress she was making in therapy- she kept certain details out, but he got the picture enough- and she shared with him the news of Aran’s sentencing, to which he rejoiced with her. 

The conversation for that had devolved into Clawdeen finding herself crying all over again, a jumbled mess of emotions. Romulus stayed on the phone with her the entire time, soothing her and gently reminding her that it was all over. 

Like Romulus had said, though, it wasn’t the same. It sucked not being able to talk to him face to face, or being able to show each other cool stuff they found or their accomplishments. Clawdeen missed his presence greatly. The one relief she could find was at least he made the effort to talk to her alone, without it always being a group chat or a video call with their other friends or packmates. 

And he’d be gone for the whole year, and maybe even the next. The only time she’d see him in person again was for the holidays. Until then, he’d be in Denmark until he was finished with his thesis. 

Against her better judgment, Clawdeen felt a small pang in her chest at the thought. It was a long time to go without her friend. She didn’t know if she could wait that long. 

She paused for a second. 

She thought of the thoughts she had just had, and what she had just felt. 

Clawdeen felt her eyes widen. 

It was the same feeling she had with Aran, that day she had called Jennifur in a panic. That same familiar heartache that made her hurt somewhere from within when she thought of him. That same sense of longing, of wanting and yearning for him, like a...like a…

“Like a lovesick housewife,” Clawdeen mumbled to herself, repeating the words she had thought of that day. 

She had felt that way about Aran; Jennifur had told her it was a natural response, due to the huge presence he’d had on her unlife for the past few years. 

If she was feeling this way about Romulus, now…

Clawdeen felt shock overcome her. Her face went bright red as a startling realization came over her. 

“Oh...” was all she could say, “...O-Oh my...” 

She couldn’t be... _No..._ About _Romulus,_ of all people…?

It was way too soon, she tried telling herself. It had only been six months since everything, there was no way she was ready to start feeling _that_ way about somebody. He was only her friend; she was probably just projecting or something like that. But _her?_ With _him?_ It was...it was…

It...honestly didn’t sound too bad to her. 

Closing her eyes, Clawdeen shook her head and closed her laptop, before she turned in her chair and headed back to her bed. 

“It’s nothing,” she told herself, “We’re just friends is all.” 

She pushed the thoughts away as she went back to her original position and pulled her text messages back up, reading new ones she received from Ghoulia and Cleo. 

Whatever this feeling was, she’d keep it to herself from now. 

After all, whatever Romlus didn’t know now, wouldn’t hurt him. 

* * *

“How come we have to go the post office so early?” Barker said with a yawn as he walked, before he shoved his hands into his jacket pockets unhappily, “Isn’t it open all day?” 

“It’s open until five-thirty,” Clawdeen clarified, “And we have to come at this time if we want to beat all the soldiers that are going to be here for their lunch break.” 

“Why do they all come on their lunch break?” Barker asked. 

“Because it’s the only other time they have to do their business besides right after they get off, which is five,” Clawdeen said. 

“Why can’t they do it another time?” 

“Because our country decided that your life is only worth working you half to life eight hours a day for five days a week for not even enough money to feed your kids,” Clawrk added as he walked in front of them, carrying a box in his hands, “And they expect you to do it every week, for every year, until you finally keel over and die, or you somehow manage to retire with meager funds and a myriad of health problems from the stress.” 

Clawdeen gave an inquisitive look at his back. Barker, though, just pouted. 

“The country sucks at being fair to people,” he commented. 

Clawdeen patted his head, “That’s the spirit, young comrade.” 

The three of them lapsed into silence as they made their way up the steps to the post office. Clawdeen held the door open for Clawrk and he gave her a quick word of thanks as he stepped through, adjusting the package in his arms to fit into the doorway. 

“Dad, are you sure you don’t need help?” Clawdeen asked, noting how he seemed to have trouble carrying the massive box by himself.

“I’m fine,” Clawrk insisted, shootin gher a grin over his shoulder, “What kind of alpha would I be if I couldn’t lift a measly forty pounds? Don’t think ‘cause you’re seeing grey in my hair that I’m suddenly worn down.” 

Clawdeen gave a grin of her own, “Just makin’ sure.” 

They headed down the hallway and into the main area, where a few people stood ahead of them in line, awaiting for the workers at the window to finish up with their current customers. Clawrk took a place in line, while Clawdeen and Barker stood next to him. 

Barker gave a huff and leaned his weight against Clawdeen as they waited for the line to move. Clawdeen gave him a look with her brow raised, but said did nothing to push him away. She turned her attention back to the front of the line. Right now, one of the poor vampire employees at the window looked like he was about to become ash on the spot as he tried to explain to the elderly boo hag he was attending to that she couldn’t mail two bottles of wine to her sister. 

It was clear they were going to be here a while. 

“Sorry,” Clawrk muttered to her, seeing the exchange, “I’ll make it up to you guys with lunch when we’re done.” 

Clawdeen nodded and looked around the area. As she watched the vampire continue with the boo hag, she looked over at the other window, where a mantis-cryptid employee was helping an oni through the process of getting a new passport. 

She looked over at the row of PO boxes lining the far wall and watched as a river monster came up to open hers and pulled out a few packages. The clock above ticked by slowly. Clawdeen looked up to the right. On the wall, positioned so that it faced where they stood in line, a TV was turned on and currently on a news channel. The sound was muted. 

Shifting onto one foot, making sure not to jostle Barker too much, Clawdeen absentmindedly watched the TV, reading along to the subtitles. The reporter on the screen was reporting some kind of late winter/early spring festival that was going on in Daytona Beach. She was dressed in summer wear, despite the current season, and there was a big blue ocean and sandy beach behind her. 

As she walked along, she talked into the microphone she was holding and narrated something about the festival being the biggest hot spot for all the newest local bands to show off their talent and possibly get the attention of an agent or record label. 

Clawdeen watched with slight disinterest. The closed captioning was severely lagging on the TV, so the words didn’t line up at all with the reporter’s lips moving. Really, she just wanted something to keep her mind off the possible long wait. 

The camera panned to the left and two people suddenly appeared on screen. Clawdeen jerked and made a noise of surprise deep within her chest. 

Barker stumbled as he felt his balance suddenly thrown off. As he regained his footing, he looked up to see Clawdeen staring at the TV, pale with surprise. 

“Clawdeen?” he asked in a small voice, reaching over to gently squeeze her hand, “You okay?” 

Clawdeen kept her eyes on the TV, unable to believe what she was seeing. 

Standing there, talking to the journalist with her brother right beside her, was Callida. 

She looked a lot healthier than Clawdeen remembered her; her crossed arms showed a bit of muscle now (and the left one was already sporting a plethora of tattoos), and the sports bra she wore showed her stomach, which had some healthy flab to it. She had dyed her hair dark purple and had cut it into a boyish style with the right side shaved, but Clawdeen recognized her to an exact tee. 

Right now, her and her brother were talking to the reporter. Clawdeen’s eyes shot down to the captions to try and read along. 

Callida was saying something about her brother’s band being in town for the festival, and how they were planning on donating half their profit from the festival to their neighborhood charity which provided food and shelter to homeless teens. Her brother nodded along and added his own two cents, but by that point, Clawdeen was barely paying attention to him and the reporter. 

_ Holy shit,  _ was all she could think. 

Callida looked so different. Even on TV, Clawdeen could see it. She looked...happier. 

She looked at peace. Relaxed. Like she had nothing to worry about. 

As she thought about, Clawdeen figured she probably didn’t. Bryce was put away for good. He wouldn’t bother her anymore, just like Aran couldn’t with Clawdeen. 

None of them  would ever bother her or the rest of the girls again. 

Clawdeen watched with a gobsmacked expression for a few seconds longer, before she closed her mouth and gave a small half-smile. 

_ A band, huh Starla?  _ She thought mentally,  _Why am I not surprised?_

_ Good luck then. I hope you win. And I hope you and Kaimana and them are doing well. I hope you’re taking care of yourselves and you’re able to get help and found somewhere where you think you belong and can start over. _

_Maybe one day we’ll all finally be able to leave this whole thing behind us and never have to look back._

S he  said the whole thing in her head , as if Callida could miraculously hear her thoughts from the other side of the TV. 

“Clawdeen?” 

Finally, she looked away from the television as she heard her name called again. Clawrk and Barker were both looking at her with slight worry. 

“You okay, sweetie?” Clawrk asked. 

Clawdeen gave him a soft smile. It was a complete one-eighty from the startled expression that had just graced her features a mere seconds earlier. 

“Yeah, I’m okay, Dad,” she replied, “Just thought I recognized an old face, is all.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't touch that dial, we're almost done!


	18. Epilogue: Forever A Sun Will Always Sing

( _Six months later…)_

It was a nice, crisp autumn day. Outside the windows, the trees were beautiful bouquets of crimson, orange, and yellow as their leaves changed with the falling temperatures and blanketed the sidewalk like they were trying to imitate the early sunset. The breeze was just cold enough for some jackets, but still light so that you didn’t have to dress super heavy.

In Jennifur’s office, her and Clawdeen sat at their usual seats. They both looked to be in good spirits, the two of them wearing large smiles as they chatted. Jennifur sat slightly hunched over, with her hands laced under her knee so she was holding her leg slightly as she listened to Clawdeen, her bright blue eyes wide with interest.

Clawdeen sat comfortably on the sofa, her hands folded in her lap as she recounted her story to the therapist. She was obviously dressed for the autumn weather, looking comfy in her big oversized sweater and fleece lined leggings, with a wool scarf draped around her neck fashionably and her white fur-lined boots matching her sweater.

She was smiling wildly, and her eyes sparkled with happiness. She looked very healthy right now; her figure was a lot fuller, her hair was done, and her makeup was perfectly blended and lined.

“I only have a quarter left, and then I’ll be done,” she was in the middle of saying to Jennifur happily, “I decided to not go to the graduation, since it’ll be so close to the howlidays, and Mom and I have too much to do, with going to my orientation, and all. But my dad says they’ll definitely be throwing me a party for it.”

Jennifur smiled at her proudly, “That’s great, Clawdeen! I’m proud of you! What school did you end up getting into?”

“University of Goregon,” Clawdeen said with great delight. She shrugged, “It’s no Boo York City, but I’ll take what I can get in terms of quality. Plus, admittedly, I don’t think I’m ready to live that far away from my family just yet.”

“Even though things may not turn out how you wanted them, it doesn’t mean you still can’t reach your goals,” Jen pointed out, “And who knows? Maybe when you’re older, you might pursue a Master’s or something and end up getting in there.”

“Yeah,” Clawdeen agreed, “Right now, though, I’d rather be able to see everyone at least once every other week instead of once every other month.”

“Understandable.”

Jennifur perked her head up at her in interest. She leaned forward a bit and rested her chin on her hands, regarding the werewolf with renewed interest.

“Quickly changing topics, how has your new ‘artwork’ been going?” she asked, “I heard this one’s taken quite a bit of time to get done.”

At that mention, Clawdeen sat up. She twisted in her seat slightly to display the lower left portion of her back. Grabbing the hem of her sweater, she pulled it up slightly to expose her skin, wincing slightly as the rough fabric brushed over the bandage that was resting there.”

“We’re halfway there,” Clawdeen said, “Most of the shading of the outline’s done. It just needs to be colored in, which might take about two to three more months at the least. Chris says the problem with the original tattoo on my back is that it was so thick and black, the only way to successfully cover it would be to replace it with something that’s even bigger, so this one’s going to pretty much halfway up my back and ribs.”

She pulled her sweater back down and turned back to face Jennifur, seeing how the werecat was nodding with understanding. Clawdeen gave her another smile and let out happy, relaxed sigh.

“It’s taken a lot longer than the others, but by this point I’m willing to be patient, as long as it turns out good,” she said, her shoulders dropping slightly, “One more session is one step closer to me finally being able to be comfortable with my body again and never have to see those ugly marks ever again.”

She let out another sigh and looked out the window, watching as a few kids with bicycles crossed the street outside. Jennifur stayed quiet; she could see something else in the she-wolf’s eyes, something else she wanted to say, and waited patiently for her to say it.

“...You know, it’s funny,” Clawdeen said after a moment’s silence, “Talking about all this. I mean, it feels like it was already so long ago, yet when I look at the calendar, it _hasn’t_ been after all...”

Jennifur said softly, “You know what day’s coming up soon, right?”

Clawdeen nodded, “It will be the first year since everything changed. Since I got rescued. Since Aran and them got...got arrested...”

The air suddenly changed in the room. Her smile quickly faded off her face as her eyes took on a slightly faraway look. Her gaze fell to the carpet. Jennifur watched her, awaiting her reaction.

“What do you think about that?” she asked, “It’s been a whole year since then...”

That got her a shrug from the werewolf. Clawdeen stayed quiet for a few more moments, looking down her lap to pick up a few stray imaginary hairs from her leggings, before she finally responded.

“I...I don’t know really know how to feel about it,” she admitted, “I think about a lot of stuff. Some days I still wake up and wonder if this is all going to turn out to be some sort of twisted, long-term dream, and I’m going to find myself back in that crummy apartment in DC with Aran banging on the door. Some days I’m fine, and some days I just...don’t feel anything.”

She crossed her arms and sat back, giving another shrug, “Lately, though, I’ve found I’ve been feeling things I’ve never felt before. It surprised me; I was in my room, and then, right in the middle of me just sitting on my bed with my cat in my lap and thinking it all over, I realized how I was reacting.”

“How, so?” Jennifur asked.

“I thought of Aran,” Clawdeen confessed. Her face turned grim, “I hate that I still think of him, even now. I mean, ever since he got sentenced, I feel like there’s been this weight off my shoulders- I don’t get scared of going out as much, I’m not looking over my shoulder thinking there’s some unmarked van following me- and some days, out of nowhere, he just comes to mind.”

“That sucks, doesn’t it?” Jennifur asked, “When you’re having a good day and for some reason, your brain just decides you’re having a bit too much fun for its liking?”

Clawdeen gestured her hand out at her, “Exactly! What the hell’s up with that?”

She continued, “Anyway, I thought of him- I really don’t know why- and…I realized, for the first time...I was angry. At him.”

Jennifur’s brows rose in curiosity. “Oh?” she replied.

“Yeah,” Clawdeen said. She frowned, “I _am_ angry at him. Very angry.

“I just, I think of everything he did, and I just...got so mad,” she explained, “I mean, he took _everything_ from me. He took me from my home, my family, my friends. He hurt me and made me feel like I was worthless and fucked with my head for so many years a-and made me think he _actually_ gave a damn about me, but it was all just one fucking game for him, another way for him to get his rocks off and know that he could make me feel that way...”

She stopped and had to take a second to compose herself as she felt a lump arise in her throat. Clutching her sleeves, Clawdeen took a shaky deep breath and tried to blink the tears out of her eyes.

When it no longer felt like she was about to burst into tears, she continued.

“I don’t know,” she said, “Just in that moment, I thought of everything that happened there, in DC, and I got mad. I don’t understand, how could anyone do that to somebody? He made it feel like I deserved everything and that it was all my fault, but _he_ did that to me. I was only sixteen and he was a grown man, and he just...didn’t care.”

“That’s good,” Jennifur told her, “That’s very good, Clawdeen. Let yourself be angry at him; it means you’re directing the blame where it should be directed and not turning it back on yourself. It’s his fault and his fault alone.”

Clawdeen nodded, taking it in. “Sometimes that’s still hard for me to accept,” she said, “I mean, even when I got angry, there was a part of me that hated myself, because I look in hindsight at things that happened and I can’t help but wonder how I never saw or thought about doing something that would’ve ensured my safety or that I could’ve broken free.

“I mean, I know. It wasn’t my fault and I wasn’t in the best state of mind and fear makes you think irrationally,” she added, “But I still get that way, and on top of the anger at Aran, afterwards, I just felt...tired.”

She looked sad for a moment, but then perked up at Jen. Her lips quirked up into a smirk that made her look a little mischievous.

“It’s not always bad, though,” she said, “Sometimes when I get mad, and then I get a little happy. Call it being spiteful, if you will, but then I think of the things I’m doing right now, and it kinda cheers me up to know where the both of us are right now.”

“Spite’s not always a bad thing,” Jennifur assured, “What do you think of?”

Clawdeen crossed one knee over the other and hugged it with her hands. She said, “Well, I think of all the stuff I’ve accomplished, since then. Things that he once made me feel like I was too stupid or too undeserving of having.”

She wagged her eyebrows a bit haughtily, “I mean, even though it wasn’t when I wanted it to be, I graduated high school, even if my friends weren’t there. I’m in college right now, and I’m about to get my degree and go to university. I have a job. I got to be there for the birth of Cleo’s baby and just last week, Laura and I went shopping to get the modifications for my dress for her and Clawd’s wedding. I’m going to be the maid of honor.”

She sat up, “After everything that happened; Aran made me feel like I deserved nothing and hurt me- physically, emotionally, mentally- and yet...I’m still here. I’m still here, still living, still growing. And meanwhile, he’s going to be living the rest of his days in prison. He won’t get to have kids, or be married, or have friends, or even see his parents when he wants. He made it seem like he was on top of the world and that I could never compare, but I’m here and he’s there.”

She shot Jen a look, “I can’t help but feel a little smug about it.”

Jennifur chuckled, “As you should. You’re recognizing your worth; you know you’re so much more and have so much more to give than what he told you. You’re taking control of what you want. Little by little, you’re seeing again that you’re a person of a value, not just a body for disgusting men to sleep with.”

At that, she beamed. She smiled brightly, “This is wonderful progress you’re making, Clawdeen. You’ve really come a long way from how you were when I first started seeing you.”

“Thanks,” Clawdeen said, “I couldn’t have done it without your help, though. I’ve been doing all those little exercises and going to those support groups you’ve recommended, so that’s definitely helped.”

Her gaze became slightly more serious, “Don’t get me wrong, there are days where I’m still not okay, and I know I’m not going to be entirely okay for a while. I still get panic attacks, I still have nightmares, and now I’m a lot more guarded around strangers, especially men, which isn’t at all what I used to be like. I love the cover-ups Chris has done for me, but even now, I still get in moods where I look at the other scars I have from the abuse and I feel so ugly and ashamed of having them.”

She looked solemn for a moment. Then, slowly, her stare lifted back up to Jennifur and a small smile graced her features.

“But then I hear what my friends and my family have to say, and I feel how proud they are and how much they love me and I love them, and...I feel better. I know I _am_ going to be okay,” she said.

Jennifur nodded, “And even if you aren’t, at least you know you’re not, and sometimes that’s all anyone can ask of you.”

They both looked over at the coffee table as a sudden loud beeping broke the peaceful quiet of the room. They could see the alarm on Jen’s phone going off.

“Oh, goodness, we’re already out of time!” Jennifur exclaimed. She looked up at Clawdeen apologetically, “I’m sorry to cut this conversation short, ‘Deen, but it seems we’ll have to carry this on at our next session.”

“That’s okay,” Clawdeen said, “I have to go meet my brother to help him run some errands, anyway.”

She gathered her purse and jacket from beside her and stood up. Jennifur got up from her seat as well and led her to the door of her office. Right before she let her go, she held out her hand and shook with Clawdeen.

“It’s always a pleasure to see you,” she said, “As always, if anything comes up or if you have any questions, feel free to call me.”

“Thank you,” Clawdeen said, looking up at her, “I will.”

She stepped out of the office into a peaceful, beautiful fall day. Clawdeen paused on the sidewalk and tilted her head up at the sun, which was already far west even though it was only midday- another clear sign that it wouldn’t be long before winter was upon them. She closed her eyes; the rays felt nice and warm on her skin, while the air carried the seasonal scents of pumpkin spice and candy.

The breeze was nice and cool on her skin without being too blistering. Across the street, as she opened her eyes back up, Clawdeen could see the stores there decorated with displays for Halloween, while their windows hung advertisements for the upcoming festival in town.

Shouldering her handbag, Clawdeen turned and started for the crosswalk. She had agreed to meet Clawd up at the outlet store on the corner, so they could get supplies to decorate his and Lala’s apartment and so Clawdeen could get a few trinkets for her outfits.

It was a beautiful day out, she thought as she admired the atmosphere. The leaves were falling gently, kids were riding their bikes and running and laughing in the park as they enjoyed their last few hours of sunlight. Dogs were barking and playing with their owners. It was nothing like the harsh traffic or bonechilling blasts of violent winds that marked the turn of autumn in DC.

Clawdeen took it all in gladly. She never wanted to take days like this for granted, ever again.

Not that she thought she would have to. Gem and Aran and Striggy were gone; they’d never bother her again. DC was in the past, now.

It had been a long, tough road, and she knew she still had a long ways to go before she felt like she would be truly content with her life now, and that there were some things about herself that she could never go back to, but as Jennifur had said, little by little, she was getting there.

She had been broken, but with time, she was learning to glue herself back together.

At times, Clawdeen found this thought reassuring enough.

She hadn’t realized she had spaced out until she heard someone calling out to her from behind.

“...deen! Hey, Clawdeen, wait up!”

Clawdeen stopped. She turned around in curiously, smiling when she saw that it was Romulus. He was hurrying up to her from the hardware store, his messenger bag banging against his side while he held a tumbler in his other hand. He’d been back in town for a few weeks as he prepared for his dissertation, and they’d been hanging out fairly frequently since then.

“Oh, hey!” she said.

Romulus stopped in front of her and looked down at her with a chuckle. “Gee, I was calling your name for like ten seconds straight,” he commented, “I know I’ve been gone, but no need to give me the cold shoulder.”

“Sorry,” Clawdeen said, “I was lost in thought about something. What are you doing?”

“Just getting some supplies for my dad,” Romulus said, putting his free hand into his pocket, “He finally wants to get to renovating the garage and wanted to help me start on it.”

He rolled his eyes, “Or, should I say, he told me I was _going_ to help him on it. Didn’t even bother asking me.”

Clawdeen giggled at his expression. Romulus grinned at her, before he straightened up.

“So, what are you up to?” he asked.

Clawdeen turned and pointed to the outlet store. Its windows were decorated with stickers of jack-o-lanterns and spiders, while a cardboard cut-out of a skeleton held up a sign that boasted _25% Off Sale! Get It Now!_ In bright red.

“Clawd asked me to meet him at the store,” she said, “We’re gonna get stuff for decorating.”

“Oh, cool,” Romulus replied, “Mind if I join you?”

“Sure,” Clawdeen replied with a shrug, turning and heading in the direction of the store.

They walked side-by-side together down the street, gazing into the windows and observing their contents. Romulus turned away from them briefly to shoot an inquisitive look at Clawdeen.

“So, I heard you got into the big U-G,” he said with a smile, “Congrats.”

Clawdeen smiled, “Thank you. I’m really excited; though, I feel like it might be weird living in a dorm with a bunch of ghouls much younger than me.”

“I know that feeling,” Romulus said, “When Dougey and me became roommates when we were in uni, I swear, almost everyone on our floor were freshmen and looked like little kids compared to us.”

He turned to her, “You’ll do great, though. I’m sure they’ll be eager to get some tips on how to dress to impress from the queen of fashion herself.”

That got him a blush from Clawdeen, who sheepishly brushed a loose curl from behind her ear.

“No, seriously,” Romulus said, “You’ll do great. It’ll be a little overwhelming at first, but you’ll quickly get the hang of it. Just make sure you get good study habits and take advantage of the tutoring centers.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Clawdeen commented.

As they passed by the pet shop that was next to the outlet store, Romulus turned to her again.

“So, any plans for Halloween?” he asked, “My mom says she thinks she’s going to take my brother and sister out to the normie side of town for trick-or-treating.”

Clawdeen shrugged, “I don’t know yet. The ghouls want to have a party sometime, but Lagoona and Frankie say they’re both working that night, and Cleo says her and Deuce want to have some alone time with the baby . My dad and mom are going to have friends over, and Howleen and them are going to be out with their boyfriends and ghoulfriends, doing whatever stupid shit they find entertaining; for now, I think I might just stay home and watching bad normie movies in our room while we eat pizza.”

“Well, what about the festival?” Romulus asked, cocking his thumb at one of the fliers posted in the window of the pet shop, “Halloween night, everything’s half-off. The ferris wheel’s always fun, too, even though the line can get pretty long. We can go together, if you want.”

Clawdeen looked up at him, one of her eyebrows quirked in doubt. She made a face at him. “Just the two of us? It’d be kind of awkward, wouldn’t it? I mean, people would probably be thinking we’d be out on a date.”

She scoffed, “That’d surely get them talking.”

She meant it as a joke, but when she looked back up at Romlus, she saw his face was completely serious. Not just that, but to her great surprise, a small blush had painted his cheeks. The smile dropped off Clawdeen’s face.

Romulus looked away from her. His hand came up and rubbed at the back of his neck sheepishly.

“I mean...” he commented, “Would that….w-would that be such a bad thing?”

Clawdeen’s eyes widened. Her mouth dropped open.

Was he…?

“I mean, I totally get it if you’re uncomfortable with that!” Romulus interjected, now frantic, “I mean, it probably is too soon and you’re still dealing with a lot, so if you say no, it’s completely fine! I-I-I just thought with the two of us hanging out a lot and all the talking that, um...I don’t know, maybe you’d be…? B-But if it’s way too early, I-I totally understand!”

He trailed off, now completely embarrassed. His face had now grown to be bright red and his hand was rubbing his neck so vigorously it couldn’t have been comfortable at all. Clawdeen, meanwhile, continued to gape at him, still reeling over his question.

Was...was this really happening? Was Romulus really asking her on a date?

Her stomach churned. It was a terrifying thought to have. She hadn’t thought once about dating or having a romantic relationship ever since she had come home. With all her trauma to work through and the ordeal with the trial, her mind had been focused on much more important things.

For the longest time, the few times she had thought about it, she thought it would be next to impossible. Her self-confidence was still a long way from what it used to be. There were still times she regarded herself as damaged goods, as “soiled” or “dirty”; she still had anxiety and her PTSD was through the roof sometimes and she still had plenty of other scars visible. Who’d be able to handle all that baggage? Who could look at her, especially in intimate moments, and see her scars and not be disgusted?

There was also the fact that she was still learning to be comfortable around men again. It had been a process just learning how to trust people like Clawd or her father and guys that she already knew, let alone complete strangers. After all her years of being looked at and regarded as nothing more than someone’s source of sexual pleasure, Clawdeen found she was still having a hard time looking at other guys and trusting that they didn’t have a double agenda on their minds when they looked at her and talked to her.

And that was just with the romantic part. She dreaded to think about what would happen if the topic of sex ever came up.

But Romulus...he wasn’t any other guy. They’d known each other since they were kids.

From the very beginning, he’d been there for her. Whenever he was over, the very first months when she was home, he’d do his best to try and keep her mind off all the stress, by asking her about random things or telling her about his day. When she freaked out at the mall, he was the first one to call Clawd to make sure she was all right. Ever since they became pen-pals, he emailed her almost every day, talking about everything under the sun and asking her about how her therapy sessions were going and comforting her on the days she was down.

There was also the little “realization” Clawdeen had had several months ago, after their phone conversation about the heels he was going to send her.

She’d never told him about it- at the time, she was way too scared and frankly, too confused about it herself. Part of her wrote it off as just a result of him being one of her closest guy-friends and just naturally the two of them getting closer as they spent more time together.

Now, though, Clawdeen could fully admit the little crush she developed never went away.

In fact, if anything, it just became stronger the more she talked to Romulus.

It scared her. But at the same time...she’d be lying if she said she didn’t want to lean more into it.

“You...you really mean that?” she finally asked, realizing how long she’d been quiet for.

Slowly, Romulus lowered his hand. His eyes slowly met hers. He swallowed hard. Clawdeen felt bad, realizing that her lack of a response had probably made him feel like she’d put him on the spot.

Taking a deep breath, Romulus finally responded.

“Yes,” he said, “I...I know this is out of nowhere, but over these past few months, I’ve realized just how much I’ve loved your company. I feel like I can just let loose and really be myself around you. And...I want to have more of that time with you. With _just_ you.”

He leveled his gaze with her, silently letting her know he was completely serious.

“I’m not going to act like I’m just some miracle worker who can take the pain away,” he said, “There are many things I know I can’t even begin to understand about what you went through and I can’t promise I’ll have the answers, or that things will just be rainbows just because you’re in a relationship.

“But if you’re willing, I can promise I’ll be there for you through thick and thin,” Romulus added, “Hell, even if you say no, I’ll still do that. I...I don’t know...I just...I feel close to you in a way that, over time, I realize is more than you feel for a friend...”

He flushed red again, realizing he’d been tongue-tied.

Clawdeen swallowed. Her mouth felt dry. Her heart started thumping wildly in her chest. With the warm feeling on her face, she knew she must’ve been as red as a cherry herself.

This wasn’t something she could go about like she had in high school. She’d been through too much and had been hurt by too many to just jump right into something like this. Especially with someone who she’d known since she was a pup; her brother’s best friend, of all people, no less.

But Romulus looked serious as he said these words. He looked a bit scared himself, actually. Like he wasn’t exactly sure how to go about them. The warmth and the genuine emotion in his dark green eyes left little room for doubt in Clawdeen’s mind.

She didn’t know how to handle something like this. It’d been a long time since she had a boyfriend.

But...from the rapid racing of her heart and the toasty warmth spreading through her chest, she realized that was okay.

Because she wouldn’t have to go through this alone. Not if she didn’t want to.

Shifting from foot to foot at the prolonged silence, Romulus’s shoulders finally dropped in defeat as he seemed to take her silence for rejection.

“I-I’m sorry,” he stammered, “I shouldn’t have asked, i-it’s way too soon and it wasn’t fair of me-”

“No,” Clawdeen interrupted, “No, I...I would love that.”

Now, it was Romulus’s turn to pause. He looked down at her with complete surprise, his thick brows so far up on his hairline that it was almost comical. She couldn’t help but smile, as it made him look completely childish.

Slowly, the surprise faded, and a true smile grace Romulus’s face. His eyes softened as he regarded her and shoved his hands back into his pocket.

“Okay...” he said, “I...I’m glad!”

Clawdeen giggled. It was awkward, but clearly the two of them didn’t mind it much. They shared a smile together, before Romulus nodded.

“Well, I...I guess I’ll you later, then? To sort out the details?” he asked.

Clawdeen nodded. That made him grin further, and he straightened up.

“Okay then,” Romulus said with finality, “I...guess I’ll get going then. I have to meet my dad.”

“Sure,” Clawdeen said.

She giggled as Romulus gave another nod, seemingly just because he could. Silently he leaned forward. Her eyes widened slightly, thinking he was going to kiss her.

Instead, though, Romulus just gripped her hand and gave it a tender squeeze.

“Okay,” he repeated, “I’ll call you.”

“Okay,” Clawdeen said, “Bye.”

Romulus held his hand up in wave, before he turned around and headed back down the street. Clawdeen watched him go, feeling butterflies in her stomach.

The hand he had touched came up and cradled itself against her chest. She held it gently, like it was something that had been blessed from an angel.

Her cheeks burned as a dreamy smile came onto her face. She felt warm and fuzzy inside.

Footsteps behind her broke her from her daze, and she turned to see Clawd approaching her. He pointed his chin at her in acknowledgment.

“Hey!” he greeted, “Sorry I’m late! The traffic got backed up around 142.”

He stopped short, blinking in sudden surprise, like he had seen something on her that alerted him. Clawdeen tilted her head at him.

“What?” she asked.

“Something happen?” he asked, “You look...well, frankly, you look a little like you’re a bit high.”

Clawdeen threw her head back and laughed. “Gee, thanks,” she said harshly.

“Sorry!” Clawd said, “But it’s true!”

That only made her laugh harder. She hugged her sides, bending over with the force of her laughter.

As she calmed down, Clawdeen wiped at her eyes as she got the last few giggles out of her system. Looking back up at her brother, she gave him a reassuring smile.

“Just got told some good news,” she said, “I’ll tell you more later.”

Clawd looked at her for a minute. Then, he simply shrugged.

“Okay,” he said.

He turned to the entrance of the outlet store and held it open, gesturing for Clawdeen to enter.

“After you,” he stated.

Clawdeen nodded and turned to head into the store, where she was immediately greeted with the feel-good display of Halloween decorations on sale.

She remained in good spirits for the rest of the day. And why not?

It had been a good day and the start of something beautiful. 

What sometimes, that was all she could ask for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The third and final installment of the Out of the Storm series shall be posted some time in the upcoming month or so. 
> 
> Thank you all for your support, your comments, your kudos, and your views. Another story done and completed (and in a much shorter time period than I expected). It truly does mean the world to me. And make sure to check out my other stories as well! 
> 
> Sincerely, 
> 
> Sapphire Ox


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